Simple Kind Of Life
by LateyGaga
Summary: AU: Kendall Knight is a successful Pop-star, yet something is missing. Love? So maybe that's why a brunette hooker named Logan is changing him so much. But will Logan accept or run-away from it? Please Review.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: It's Official, ****THIS IS MY NEXT ONGOING! **** I love this concept and I know this has been done before, but you know me, and you know I'm going to put my own, heart-breaking spin on it. It's how I do. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy and review and favorite and story-alert and all that incredible stuff because it keeps me going when it feels like nothing else can. You all really do mean a lot to me **

**P.S. Another Update Tomorrow to Establish Kendall's part in the story, so stick around; should be fun. Luv ya. XoXo.**

To say that Logan Mitchell had led a good life would be more than just a lie. It would be the utmost blasphemy that the even the unborn would know. Because to say Logan Mitchell had led a good life would implicate that the last nineteen, shitty years of his existence were worth something more than dollar-store liquid eye-liner and skinny jeans he stole from a client.

To say that Logan Mitchell was more than every other slut who sold themselves on the corner would be false.

To say that Logan Mitchell was anything more than a cheap trick would be a damned lie.

Because in the end, it was all he had left to hold onto anymore.

He lit his cigarette up against the cold October air and pulled the black, leather jacket around his shirtless upper region to fight the cold while letting the slow burn help bring him back to life. To help remind himself that he was still living. Because the pain was the only thing that kept him alive any more. That and his little brother. Or was his little brother the thing killing him? He honestly didn't know anymore.

He couldn't remember his actual parents; they died in a car crash when he was two, so the best he could come up with was maybe a little bit of a blur of what they might have been like. Apparently, his father was a mechanic and his mother was a nurse, but he didn't even know if he could trust that. He didn't know if he could trust anything.

He was in the foster system by the age of five, his great-grandmother – his only surviving relative – having gave up on raising the toddler at the age of eighty-three, and the little he knew about anything in his family came from a poorly scribbled letter she had left with him.

To be honest, Logan didn't exactly blame her for what she did, but that didn't make him feel any less betrayed about the situation. She was old and frail, but she was also family. Family was supposed to take care of each other no matter what. And yet, she didn't.

And that was why Logan was stuck in the system for thirteen years of his life; thirteen hellish years that he would hold onto bitterly whenever he encountered a new family. He realized why these people did it and he found it beyond vile; he refused to be used for the money that the state would hand over for someone to babysit him. No, he'd rather die than live like that.

His first family showed up right after he'd had his six birthday and honestly, the chances of a kid getting adopted past the age of three were low, but Logan didn't know that. He was six; he was still enamored by the way that ants crawled when he kicked the hill, so of course he was excited to hear that he had new parents. Their names were the Warners. They were a warm and welcoming young couple who had recently found out that they were infertile and would never be able to have kids. But before Mr. Warren would allow his wife to adopt, he wanted them to foster a child to see how they would do as parents.

They were both kind to Logan when he first arrived at their home and he loved it; he had never seen a house as big in his life before. It seemed to have a labyrinth of bed rooms and the walls were stocked with bright, well-framed family pictures. It was heaven for a kid who had never known wealth like this. Grandma Mitchell lived in a one person apartment in the upper, east side and he didn't exactly remember his first home while his parents were still alive. So being in a real home with comfort and luxury and family was all new to him. And he decided that he loved it.

And of course, as any family usually would in this situation, they began to spoil Logan with gifts and love, two things that were very new to him. They filled his room with Elmo Wall paper and he had a mound of stuffed bears and toy cars. And every night, each parent would take turns reading him a bed-time story or rocking him to sleep or singing until he drifted off, but no matter what, they were there. They were always there. It was every six-year olds dream.

The next week, Mrs. Warner got morning sickness.

It wasn't long after that the Warners discovered that somehow, they had actually conceived a child naturally and would be birthing a baby daughter in eight months. Logan had never been so excited in all of his life, the prospect of a baby sister exciting him more than anything else he could think of. It got him more excited than a thousand Elmo dolls or hugs or toys or anything else. Because for the first time, he was actually going to have a real, growing family.

It didn't quite work-out that way though; the Warner's were beyond elated to be having a child of their own. And since this was their first _real_ child, they wanted to experience every step as a normal starting couple would, so a six-year-old boy didn't exactly fit into that equation well. Right after baby Emily Warner was born, merely weeks after Logan's seventh birthday, he was returned to the state's foster care program.

He didn't understand it at first; he didn't get why he was where he was again if he had parents. Parents who loved and cared for him. Parents who bought him toys and told him bed-time stories and held him when the storm outside was getting too loud. The Warner's were his parents now and like so many others before, they gave up on him. Like his grandmother. That was the first real time that Logan Mitchell felt heart-break. And that feeling never left him. How could someone abandon a child like that?

By his ninth birthday, he was starting to understand the idea that by a certain age, no one wanted you. He had first heard it one day when he was being looked after by one of the teenage fosters, but their words stuck with him.

"Your expiration dates comin real soon little buddy," the older boy said while helping the brunette with the book he was reading, "No one wants a teenager. No one."

At first, Logan didn't fully grasp what he was being told, but after a long time of careful thought and consideration, it made total sense to him. The only thing people wanted were babies. No one wanted a full grown child. A child they couldn't watch grow up. Have first times with. No, no, you wanted a clean slate. Not someone else's damaged goods.

His next foster parents were the Garcia's, a family that would change his life; whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, he still wasn't sure, but they did. The family first took him in a few months after his tenth birthday, and at first he was relieved. Grateful even. Maybe this would be the family that would finally end the cycle and adopt him. But like everything else in the brunette's small life, that didn't go as planned.

The Garcia's had problems; to say they were dysfunction would be a very kind understatement about the state the family was in. Fucked-Up would be a much better way of describing the way they worked.

Mr. Ruiz and Mrs. Suzanna Garcia only had one child of their own; one boy, Carlos, who was about Logan's same age. But, they were poor. They were beyond poor. So they did whatever possible to make the little money that they could and that's how they got into the foster system. When Logan first moved in, they were fostering four other children; when he left, they had seven, not including himself.

This home was nothing like the Warner's; there was no compassion or love at all, just an obvious exhaustion of every resource available. Including their main one of all, their own son Carlos. When the brunette first arrived, he'd made the decision to not get too attached when he saw how they lived. He had decided that inevitably, the state would pull him and the rest of the kids and he'd be right back where he started, so there was no reason to get to know anyone here, but after seven months of that same thought, he finally decided to open up to his roommate.

"Um, hi Carlos," the smaller boy started, feeling somewhat guilty that these were the first words he'd said to the boy he was sharing a room with, "I'm - I'm Logan. Logan Mitchell."

"Yeah, I know who you are," the Latin boy responded, resting himself against the pillows of his small, twin bed.

"I just – I wanted to get to know you a little more," Logan said, still not facing Carlos out of the embarrassment he was feeling.

"Well, you did steal my room," Carlos replied rather bitterly for a nine year old; he was one year younger than Logan and yet he sounded like he was his senior.

"I'm sorry – It's just, I'm just," the brunette was desperately stuttering out words, searching for the right thing to say.

"Calm down dude," the other boy responded with a small grin, "I was just kidding; can't you take a joke."

"Yeah, I'm just a little nervous today," Logan finally turned to face the boy he'd avoided for so long.

"I'm Carlos, Carlos Garcia, the boy you stole the room from," Carlos said with a smirk, "Good to meet you," he put his hand out.

"Hi, I'm Logan Mitchell, you're fake brother I guess," the shorter tween replied, going out for Carlos's out stretched hand.

"Ha, Ha! Too slow," the Latin boy said as he slapped his hand back fast before Logan could grab it.

"Hey, not fair, I was going to shake your hand," Logan replied, a slight pout that any ten-year-old would get for being tricked painting his face.

"Come on, you can hug me," Carlos stood up with hid arms outstretched, "you are my brother after all. My real _brother_. I don't even know what a fake brother is."

Logan decided to go in for the hug and he liked the warmth of it; over time, he learned what a playful, fun loving kid Carlos was. They became close, very close, and did almost everything together. Inseparable. In the most platonic way possible, they were bonded for life. And that would become important later.

CPS soon showed up to confiscate all of the kids the Garcia's had three years after Logan's original arrival and it was dramatic. Nine kids were taken back to the state with Mr. Garcia going to prison on Child Molestation charges and Mrs. Garcia facing charges for malnourishment on some of the older children. Luckily, both Carlos and Logan were sparred of these atrocities; most of the other children were not.

For the first time in his entire life, the brunette had someone he had to care for, and for some weird reason, he enjoyed it. He liked being Carlos's sole care-taker; he was his brother and he'd never forget that.

At the time they both arrived in foster care again, Logan was thirteen and Carlos was twelve, still just one year behind the smaller boy. It was a hard adaption for the Latin boy, but with the brunette's help, he got used to it; he accepted him as his only family left. And he liked it. Because for the first time in his life, he felt cared for. He felt like more than just another mouth to feed. To Carlos, Logan was real family. The only one he needed.

But that relationship almost ended when the Swanson's first showed up, looking for a teenager to help them to raise their two younger children. The Swanson's were nice, but they were also old, and after having their first two children past the age of forty-five, the toll that the kids took on them had an obvious affect. Logan was sixteen by this point and Carlos was fifteen so the Swanson's chose the one they thought more responsible, and Logan reluctantly went home with them the next day. Extremely Reluctantly. Because he swore to always protect Carlos, his only brother, and this separation made it that much harder. Yet Logan was smart. And he started to scheme.

"Um, Mrs. Swanson," the brunette said while making the sandwiches for the younger children at the counter, "may I be frank with you."

"Look Logan, you know I have places to be," the woman said while packing her briefcase, "I let you skip school today, what else do you want."

Logan winced a little, hating the idea of skipping school, but he was working on his plan, so this pain would simply have to wait.

"I just – I can't take care of your kids alone anymore; Jeremy is just so rough and Lorraine, Lorraine has so many clubs and activities. I can't handle this by myself and still get good grades."

"What do you want me to do," the woman responded, frustrated at the current conversation, "Mr. Swanson and I have work. We can't help."

"Well, I was wondering, maybe you could foster another teen; I just need help."

"What makes you believe that we would foster another teenager just to help raise our kids?"

"Let me be absolutely blunt," Logan replied, spreading the jelly slowly, "I know why I'm here and I know my place; I'm not your son, I'm your baby-sitter. Now I can start making trouble and get taken back by the state or you can cooperate and get me help. Is that clear?"

He finally looked up and saw the woman's shocked face.

"Fine, we'll look into it in a week or so, but for now, just do your job; since we're past the parenting bull-shit, just do what you're here for."

"Yes Mrs. Swanson," Logan said with a devious grin, "Whatever you say."

Three weeks later, they were back at the agency and there, sitting with a few of the other teens was Carlos, the dead look in his eyes breaking Logan's heart. He was supposed to care for his brother.

After hours of talking with social workers, the brunette was going to get the final word on the choice and from the recommendation he gave, he was sure they were going to take in the Latin boy.

"Well Logan, it looks like we've made our decision after all," the tall, balding man said while looking down at the brunette.

"Okay, so when are we taking him home," Logan replied with a giddy smile, happy to have won.

"Him, I believe you have it mistaken, we're fostering a girl," the woman interjected, "you said you needed help and we're getting it."

"I told you who I wanted and needed, and that most definitely was not a girl," the brunette replied, fury slowly rising within himself.

"We got you what you asked for; I believe a thank-you is in order," the taller man said with a slight scowl.

"No, no, I asked for a specific person and I detailed that out to you, so no, no thank-you is in order; get me who I want," the smaller teen replied, the anger in his voice making himself seem bigger than he was.

"Look Logan, we're your care-takers and we make decisions, so I will ask you one more time, say 'thank-you," the man, Mr. Swanson, was getting angry and he grabbed Logan's wrist roughly in an effort to intimidate the foster child.

"Oww," Logan moaned out, making a scene out of the action, "Please stop, you're hurting me," the nurses all turned to face them.

"What are you doing," hissed Mrs. Swanson, "Stop this right now."

Quickly, Logan undid his shirt and flashed the Swanson's his chest; he was covered with big, purple bruises from his pecks to his pelvis. He flashed them both a grin while they stared on in horror.

"Let me make something crystal clear," the brunette whispered out at the two adults, "I will find someone here and show them all of those marks to get out of your house. They'll do it. They'll do it and take your two spoiled kids away. And you'll go on trial for child endangerment. So let's get this straight, you'll get me who I want or I'll bring all of the shit I can down on you. Got it?"

The two adults swallowed hard before re-going through the process and bringing home a specific Latin boy that day. Carlos and Logan were once again re-united, but this time, they both decided to never be separated again.

Carlos walked in the room singing the tune to the newest Christina Aguilera song when Logan first introduced the idea.

"Carlitos," the brunette started slowly, wanting to ease into the subject, "What do you want to do when you grow up?"

"That's a strange question Loganator," the Latin boy responded while slipping the shirt off and putting the hoodie on.

"I know, but I want to know. We need to start planning our future out at one point."

"Well, it's kind of dorky,"

"What, What is it; you know I won't judge."

"It's just, I- I-, do I really have to admit this."

"Yes, Yes you do."

"Well, I kinda have this dream of one day doing Musical Theatre; you know, have my name in lights and sing and dance and act in a big Broadway show. But I'll never get to do that."

"Why; What's stopping you."

"Well, I need to go to some kind of talent school if that's going to work, you know."

"Yeah."

"Well, we both know these two scum bags aren't going to help us there."

"But we could do it. We could go away to Los Angeles and get you into a school there. You know we could, we would just have to muster up enough money to go."

"Now how are we going to do that Logan?"

"Carlos, I think we need to run away."

"Logan! You're always the calculated one between the two of us; you know how stupid that sounds. You, of all people, know just how crazy that is."

"Think about it, we run away together and get you into some Musical College were you master your skill and become super famous and I get to live with you and help you out. I could totally write songs for you and you know it."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Yeah, you should guess so, so let's do it."

"You know we can't leave tonight."

"It doesn't have to be today, I just need you to promise to do this with me."

"Okay," Carlos flashed his smirk while running his hand through his hair, "Promise."

That night would change their lives; six months later, Carlos and Logan ran away together from where they were in Minnesota all the way to Los Angeles. And it wasn't easy.

No, not at all.

For on that trip across the country, Logan did something that he knew he'd regret; on the journey to California, Logan Mitchell turned his first hook.

And that's how he got to where he was now on that cold street corner with his eye-liner starting to smudge in all different directions. The wind was biting and he could feel every bit of it hit him like tiny knives that were poised to bring him straight into the ground. He gritted his teeth before putting the cigarette out in his thick, worn coat jacket and feeling the warmth etch into his skin.

He flitted back into the dark club and farther back into one of the rooms that was some-what hidden when he first saw the blonde boy. The tall, beefy blonde boy that would change his life forever.


	2. Chapter 2

Kendall Knight lived the life that most people could only begin to dream of; by the age of fifteen, he had more money than the population of the town he was born in. He had more money than the Private School he went too. He had everything he could ever want, and yet it was never enough. Something was missing and he knew it, but he just wasn't sure what it was. The closest assumption he had was 'love,'; it was the only thing he didn't have. And it wasn't something you could buy with all the money in the world either. For most of his life, he had never felt loved, just tolerated. And at times, not even that; the names and things people called and did to him had scarred him for life. And so many times he had started to believe it all. Yet he had to remind himself where he was now; that he was worth so much more than what he was constantly told.

That he was more than just the blonde, gay kid who liked to sing.

That he was more than just the target.

Because in the end, it was all he had left to hold onto anymore.

No. Kendall Schmidt Knight was more than that. He had so much more to live for, but if he did, why was he here; here in this club so very late at night when only bad could happen. Were one camera phone snap could take down his whole career. And yet, for the first time, he was their out of spite for his career. He was there for his self-esteem. Because for one fucking time in his whole god-damned life, he actually wanted to feel normal. He wanted to feel real.

Kendall Schmidt was born into a crap town in Minnesota to his poor, single mother one very glum Friday morning. The rainfall should have been some kind of signal that he was meant to suffer in life. Or maybe the thunderstorm. Or the fact that right before he was going to literally be born, the electricity went out for a second and almost killed twelve different people in the ICU. So to say that it all started the day he was born would be absolutely no exaggeration. It would be an understatement.

His mother, Caroline Schmidt, worked hard, but they lived in a some-what rural town – developing would be a kinder way to put it – so it wasn't always easy for her. She had to do things she would later regret to feed her new born son. She would have to lose certain illusions about life to feed the child that she loved so much. Yet it never made her resent Kendall, it made her love him all the more.

Kendall was three-years-old when he first met David Knight and immediately, the pair bonded; for Kendall, this was the best dad he could ever dream of. David was kind and loving and instantly treated the blonde like he was his own son, teaching him to play sports and do things that men do. And instantly, Kendall would do the opposite.

It wasn't that he put on dresses or wanted to ever be a girl, it was that he just wasn't particularly the athletic type that David had wanted. Kendall was compassionate and sweet, not rough and aggressive. When other boys around his age enjoyed going and riding their bikes or beating each other with sticks till the blood became funny, Kendall enjoyed drawing and singing.

Oh how he loved singing; it was his life. He sang in the bath-tub, he sang in the bed, he sang in the sofa. He sang into his dinosaur hair brush that was lovingly worn with use and blonde hairs. He sang to his dog and all of the stuffed animals he'd accrued from years of begging. He sang in the yard to the birds who would then try to out sing him and of course he'd win because he'd stand in the trees face for hours and sing louder and louder till the tune in the leaves stopped. He sang to the TV and he sang to the radio. He sang to absolutely anything that would possibly listen.

And David learned to love it, matter-of-fact, he did more than love it, he supported and encouraged it as best he could. He didn't want to be seen as the evil step-father to Kendall, but rather his real dad who loved and cared for him. So when the blonde child threw a fit in the middle of the store to get the new Evanescence CD, his father gave in. When he started crying because someone turned off all of the music that he kept blasting through the house, his dad would go turn it all back on. Because David knew he couldn't spoil his son with gifts, but he could spoil him with music. And that's all Kendall wanted.

David Knight adopted Kendall Schmidt just weeks after he married Caroline in a small, quiet ceremony outside of the town. It was pretty, in the middle of a large field, were there was a simple white altar that the Rabbi stood at. With only twenty guests, mostly made up of David's family, the small green patch of land became a vibrant show of proud relatives and co-workers who were elated for the man's new family. They were now Mr. David Knight and Mrs. Caroline Knight with their four-year-old son, Kendall Knight.

The next year, Mrs. Knight gave birth to the couple's first biological child, Katie Knight, to Kendall's disdain. It took David three weeks to finally get Kendall to acknowledge the child's existence all the while learning to love it. But in a month, the blonde was completely taken in by his new sister who was the coolest thing he could ever think of. And as tradition, Kendall sang to the new baby girl every night before bed and after dinner and during breakfast, much to the baby's annoyance. But it didn't matter that she cried, because the blonde finally had an audience.

Yet as the day of his birth had obviously fore-warned, his life quickly took a turn for the worse; David Knight was caught up in a bank robbery attempt that same year. During a hostage stand-off at _First Colonial of Juriesberg_, Mr. Knight was shot straight threw the chest by a cops stray bullet. He was the only person to die during the event; everyone else came out unscathed as did the culprits.

Kendall didn't think he'd ever seen his mother cry so much in his entire life, but honestly, he didn't know what was happening. 'When was David getting home from the bank? When was Daddy coming to help make Pizza? When is he going to sing with me? Take care of Katie?'

It took him a month to process the fact that David was never going to come back into their lives and as soon as it hit him, he began to cry just as hard as his mother was. And then his mother cried because her son was crying. And her son cried out of the terror of his mother crying even harder than she was before. For a year this tear cycle went on till the day that Katie began to walk.

Their lives slowly started to return to normal, but it would never go back to the pre-David days; Mrs. Knight made a big deal out of keeping the last name for herself and her son even though David's mother requested they drop it. He simply meant too much and she refused to give up to the little shred of her husband she had left anymore. Instead, she gave up on everything else. She quit going to Synagogue and told Kendall he no longer needed to wear his kippah. She just lost faith in anything else out there when she lost David, the only genuinely good person she knew; she had lost faith in life.

And Kendall was too young and wounded to care in the first place; he just didn't understand why things like this even had to happen.

So instead of dealing with things the normal way and trudging through the emotions until it eventually cleared up, Mrs. Caroline Knight threw herself into her work. Heavily. She went in at six in the morning at got home at nine at night, making overtime more of a habit than eating. And seeing as how she had given up on life while still raising two children, Kendall's little six-year-old brain started to get worried. 'Who was going to take care of Katie? Who was going to take care of us? When would his old mom be back?'

Kendall made the decision himself though; he would do this with or without his mothers help and he went to work of growing up. He took care of Katie as best he could while finishing school work. He learned to cook from their neighbor who also was their nanny. He was slowly becoming a young, young, young adult and he wasn't sure how much he liked it; slowly, he felt as if he wasn't himself anymore. The only piece of old Kendall left was the singing. Because for him, the music never stopped.

After five years of his mom working at the pace she was at - with such utter intensity - had finally started to change the three's lives. Drastically. She moved the family into a large apartment in Madison, the first actual big city in the area, and life started to some-what get better. Immediately after moving in, she hired a live-in care-taker for the children and with that, she virtually never saw them again. What Mrs. Knight didn't realize was that care was not a replacement for love and it never could be. You can care about your house, but that doesn't mean you love it. You can care about how you look, but you can certainly hate the outcome. Care is a state of being. Love is a state of heart.

When Kendall finally reached the seventh grade, his mother decided to give him a gift; she transferred him to a private school on the opposite side of town. It was a Catholic School, but it had some of the highest grade rankings in the area, and Mrs. Knight didn't mind being a bad Jew for this. She was a bad Jew in the first place. She was barely Jewish at all anymore. This was no different from all the other times.

What she didn't understand was the emotional impact that this would all have on the blonde boy; if it wasn't hard enough going to a totally different school, he was also starting puberty. That extremely awkward time in your life were you start to realize things and change. When you learn who 'you' really are. When you start to feel thing that are much more than mere companionship for other people. So taking him out of his comfort zone and injecting himself into a strange, new, foreign environment was more than dangerous; it was cruel.

Kendall definitely felt threatened upon first entering the school, yet after finally seeing it all and getting to know the setting, he definitely felt more comfortable. So he let himself actually find interests and seek out the things he genuinely enjoyed rather than try to hide himself in sports or anything like that; he joined drama and choir. He joined all of the arts there, but he took a special interest in those two especially. He had always loved to sing and with choir, he actually got to show-case it and he did drama because his passion for acting had gotten him out of many sticky situations. Those were two immediate mistakes that he would spend the next six years genuinely regretting.

The bullying started just after his first month there; he was a tall, stringy blonde kid with long hair that fell right over his eyes. He virtually had no muscle-tone and had this extreme amount bitchiness that could make a drag-queen cry. All-in-all, Kendall was not the hetero-nominative definition of what a boy was particularly supposed to be. And that was because the blonde wasn't really all that hetero in the first place.

It would be a lie to say that Kendall didn't think about girls; he liked girls. He liked them a lot. He could picture himself getting married to a nice woman and settling down with three kids and a dog. Then again, he had the same vision of himself with a man. Because it would be an absolute lie to say that Kendall didn't feel the same way for boys as he did for girls; he didn't see gender. To him, he only saw love and he liked that; it was a great feeling to have in the first place. The most distinctive presence of love he'd ever seen was the one that his mother had shared with David and all he wanted was that same feeling.

The kids at the school caught onto that immediately and coupled with the fact that he was so artsy and had such attitude, the gay jokes came instantly. He never forgot the time that his newspaper piece that he had wrote after careful research had been graphitized with the word 'fag' over it and then sent to press. That was absolutely crushing for him. And then there was the time that he sang the anthem for the school's last football game of the season and was promptly booed off the stage while people in the crowd held up a banner that read 'No-Mo Homo.' He didn't get it at first, but when it finally hit him, all he could do was cry. How could anyone be this mean?

The first sign that things could ever get better was when one of the choir boys took them under his wing. James Diamond was a very wealthy kid, but he was not a particularly kind one. He got his way and it didn't matter how, so when he started to stick up for Kendall, the blonde was quickly excited. All he wanted was friends and for the first time, he'd made a real one. They were both in theatre together and James essentially led the choir, so they were together for most of the day.

That didn't make things particularly easier though; whenever James wasn't around, the bullying got even worse. He could barely go to school on the days that he knew the tanned boy wouldn't out of fear of safety for his own life. Things went on this way until his tenth grade year when his sister, who was attending the school with him, finally broke from the stress of all of it.

"Fuck Kendall," she came home yelling one day, slamming the door in a wild display of anger.

"What? What Happened Katie," Kendall responded, batting the feathery hair out of his eyes.

"You Kendall. You fucking happened," Katie hollered back at him.

"That's ….That's so mean," the blonde said while pulling a seat out for himself.

"God, there you go again, acting like a girl," she replied, throwing her hands up in exasperation, "For one time, could you act like your own fucking gender Kendall."

"Look Katie, this isn't your business and it doesn't aff-,"

"Yes, yes it does," she said, turning away from his as the anger faded, "I get made fun of for you Kendall and I just can't do this anymore." She stormed out of the room and the tall teen was left in silence besides the loud click of a locking door that came from her room's direction.

Her words stung; her words stung more than anything else he could think of, but there was something else to them. They weren't exactly … unrealistic. That was his only description. Because he didn't know what else to think. She was right, he did get bullied a lot on the fact that he was so feminine, but he never even began to think about how it could affect Katie. Did she get bullied because of it too? Were people picking on her as well? Was she the 'Fag's Sister'?

Kendall lied in his room and cried the whole night, only taking breaks to wipe away the heavy tears, because this was all too much to take. He had very little left to live for anymore and he just wasn't prepared to deal with everything anymore. He felt as if every layer of skin and protection had been ripped off at that moment and it wasn't his sister's words alone. It was years of tormenting and name-calling and tears and hurt and sobs and choked words and every fucking time he was singled out and humiliated. And right then, he started to genuinely consider death. Suicide was an option. It was a big option. If he locked the door and grabbed a knife, he could do this. It would take one simple slash and that would be all. He could lay back and close his eyes and let the blood flow. Simple.

That's when his phone rang.

Slowly, he trudged over to his dresser and picked the small, silver object up before pressing the button and putting it up to his ear; this was just a road bump.

"Kendall," the voice on the other line started, "Um, I just wanted to know if you kind of wanted to, you know, go do something?"

"Like what James," the blonde replied, his eyes lighting up when he heard the tanned boy's question.

"It's a Friday night and, well, Look; I'm all alone because, I don't know how to say this without hurting your feelings, but I don't have any friends that want to go out right now and I was just wondering if you were willing too. We could like go to the mall or something?" James finished, the question starting to bleed into his voice slightly.

"Okay, I'd love too, were do you want to meet?" Kendall ran over to his closet as fast as he could to start putting something together all the while forgetting the pocket knife entirely.

"How about I pick you up; does that sound okay?"

"Yeah, that sounds great,"

"Bye."

"Bye. See you in a minute."

"Yeah, you too."

As soon as he heard the click of cell phone, he threw his across the room and fell back into his bed, his previous suicidal thoughts disappearing like dust. He didn't want to entirely admit it, but he did kind of have a crush on James. So he wasn't sure if this was James asking him out or if it was a friend thing, but still, he was excited.

James didn't show up that night; he didn't even call to cancel it. At twelve the nest day, he sent a simple text that read 'things changed' and that was that; he had absolutely no other explanation for what he'd done to the blonde. And the suicidal thoughts returned again.

Yet again, another person he'd driven away and he knew why. It was because of how femme he was. But when he actually started to think about it, he realized something; he could change that, he could stop the femininity.

And Kendall did something that he would regret worse than being himself; he stopped. He stopped being who he wanted to be and started to be what everyone else wanted. In that regret, he saw the last shred of who the blonde was.

He went about changing his life after that miserable weekend and the first thing he did was cut his hair; he had his sister trim the bangs to make them more masculine and less blunt so they would swoop and not sit. He couldn't give it all up.

Then he started changing his wardrobe, going from his usual of bright colors and tight jackets to blacks and reds. He replaced a million different coats with a million different oversized flannels that fit loose. His different shirts with graphics went to plain v-necks that didn't look any different than the rest. He bought himself a nice pair of vans and put the high-top converse under his bed. He didn't stop with his skinny jeans though. He couldn't give it all up.

He started to deepen his voice on purpose and stop letting himself be over-dramatic; the hand flails went out the window first. He quit choir and threw the folder full of songs away while ripping each script in two carefully. He threw it all in a black bag and forgot about it. All accept his playbills with his credits. He couldn't give it all up.

But the thing that changed it all, that made life so much better, was Kendall joining sports; he joined every sport he could find or sign up for and immediately, he started training. He became a front-end for the football team and was the catcher for the baseball players. He was the hockey leader and was the soccer goalie. He did it all. He did it all to distract himself from the things he actually cared about. The things that he dreamt about and grew up with and genuinely enjoyed. He forgot about Kendall Knight. Because he had given it all up; he'd created something he thought was perfect. And in the end, destroyed something absolutely, positively beautiful. He'd broken Kendall Knight. He was no longer Kendall Knight. He was someone else entirely.

Yet, it made things get better; he made friends and went to parties and slept with girls. Lots and lots of girls. So many girls that he could describe each member of the cheer squad's boobs down to the tee. Jenna was a little lumpier than Lorrie, but he still enjoyed it. He enjoyed it all on the surface; on the inside, he could feel it slowly killing him. Still, he got respect. And the ultimate show of that was when James wasn't embarrassed to introduce him as his friend. When the tanned boy would laugh with him and go to parties with him and work-out with him.

But Kendall was so far from whom he used to be that he didn't care that much; all he wanted was more numbing agents to not have to deal with the real things. So more sports and booze and one-night stands were in order for him. He forgot about love entirely.

By the time he had reached the end of his twelfth grade year, he was completely unrecognizable; he had grown even taller and he was muscular. He was ripped. Beefy. He was a jock, plain and simple. He looked like he threw on the first thing he saw in the morning and constantly seemed some-what out of it. His blonde hair was messy and everywhere, a huge difference from his old style of blunt, long bangs that would cloud his eyes. He was crass and crude and loud. He wasn't the same person he was as a kid.

The first time he took an interest in singing again was when he saw an audition at the mall and decided to try out for fucks-n-giggles. He and James both bought a bottle of patron together, swallowed it as fast as they could and got on stage and sang a duet as best as two very drunk boys could. And the crowd went wild. They started screaming for more and more and they almost ran the stage over with picture and squeals.

Immediately, the audition host and judge, a record producer named Gustavo Roque, signed them as soon as they finished their booze filled, improvised set list and within a week, they were moved out to LA. Kendall and James made up the new pop boy band duo Big Time Rush, a worldwide sensation that swept America like the crack epidemic. Within three months, Kendall bought his mother off to never speak to him again while James got a helicopter with his name in bold black letters on the sides.

After going on their first international tour, The _Rule the World Tour_, were the Jonas Brothers and Justin Bieber opened for them on multiple occasions, they helped redefine teenage fame. They were two eighteen year-old boys that were living the lives of rich, pig-headed frat boys and hid it better than anyone could imagine. They constantly kept an air of mystery surrounding themselves, keeping the paparazzi at arms length. It made them that much more famous. And James enjoyed every single second of it.

Yet, Kendall didn't; he was missing something, something that could not be bought or sold. He missed love.

And that's how he ended up here, on that cold LA night, in a club in the middle of the city with glistening strobe lights striking him blind every few seconds. He got up slowly from his plush seat in the middle of the chaotic setting and strided forward slowly, careful to not tear his deep purple, leather jacket against one of the many alcohol fueled people surrounding him.

Slowly, he turned a sharp corner and ended up somewhere that he didn't expect to be; he stepped into a dark hallway that lead to a some-what well hidden room that was different. It was more, intentional. That was the first time he saw the brunette. The short, toned brunette that would change his life forever.

**Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this; I swear, it's my last chapter to follow this format. The rest are going to be more action oriented, dialogue heavy ones, but this was just necessary. I needed to introduce each boy properly to make sure that it was clear who they were exactly and just how fucked up they were. Are. PS, sorry for using a Catholic school again, but I swear, this will have a ton less to do with religion. Okay, some, but not much. But It'll all be good religious stuff, SWEAR. Okay, I don't really swear because I swear and promise alot of stuff, so hopefully. Definitely hopefully. And sorry if I got any Jewish customs or traditions wrong, but I am not currently or have ever been, Jewish. I was Cabbala for a week though, so does that count? XD BTW, It will become important in the story later. **

**PS. Update Next Friday. Once a Week.**

**And I'm sure you know what I'm going to say at the end, so I'll just end with this. REVIEW Lovelies. Luv Ya. XoXo.**


	3. Chapter 3

Logan was careful as he flitted down the black hall-way in the back of the gleaming club; this meant too much for him to mess up on it and miss out. There were a lot of things about being a Hooker that weren't exactly glamorous, but this certain thing was. Some-what. For him at least. Because this was the time that he actually got to step out of the cold air outside and feel special. This was when he could feel warm bodies surround him and heavy breathing hit him like speeding bullets. This was when he could actually make some real money after all. This was the _Rock Show_. The time to shine.

And that's why he was running down the hall breathlessly, paying little attention to the intersection at all.

Kendall just needed to get away from all of this at the moment; he needed relief that only air could give and currently all he had was the stiff, moist heat the club was providing. That was the reason he gave up his good seat in the club and went down that thin, dark hallway. That and thought. He just needed one damned minute to take it all in and think about what was going on; why, why was he so, angsty? Why was he so pisssed off? And not just tonight, but in time in general. He was always some degree of pissed or angry and everyone knew it around him, yet they all chose to ignore it. Why? Was it that obvious that he was going to be that way all the time so everyone just gave up on stopping him or making him happy. Or was it him? Was he the one shutting everyone else off and numbing himself from it all? He wasn't entirely sure at the current moment.

And that's why he was walking down the hall slowly, paying no attention at all to the intersection in front of him.

On accident, as each boy headed the same direction in opposite hall-ways, they collided upon first contact with the thick black door that the 'IT' sign hang over. The 'EX' had been burned out for three years, yet the 'IT' made sense when you actually thought about what was past that door. Still, the collision was hard and it knocked both boys on the ground.

"God," Kendall started while recollecting himself, "what the fuck dude."

"I'm so, so sorry, I was, I was just in a rush to get in there," Logan replied while hopping up in a hurry.

"What's the damn rush; the exits still going to be there even if you tip-toed," the blonde said while crossing his arms.

"Ha!" the brunette breathed out, not entirely sure why he recognized the teen in front of him, "Good one."

"What do you mean, 'good one'," the taller boy questioned, slowly bowing up.

"Calm down … Sir? Um, it's just ….," his sentence started to trail again, "you've never been in here have you?"

"I've been out of plenty of back doors in my life," the blonde replied.

"This isn't a back door."

"Then what the hell is it exactly?"

"Follow me," The brunette said while pushing the door open and revealing an even more hedonistic vision then before; and Kendall thought the club was bad. The walls were lined with all sorts of different men and woman who each were holding two or three tramp-ish looking people near them. This was brothel of sorts. It was the whore house in the back of the club.

Immediately, the blonde was at a loss to take in the whole setting and just stood there while the shorter boy tugged on his hand. Moments later, he felt the light touch leave and watched as the brunette he'd just met disappear into the giant, engulfing crowd in front of him. It was a little shocking at first; it was like a whole different party happening in the same club. A sex party of sorts. But as if he had been doing this for years, Kendall threw himself down on one of the sleek, black couches and was covered by different women throwing themselves at him as they were with all of the other men. He could handle this for a few hours. And when he started to feel up the prostitute who was currently seated in his lap, he decided he could definitely handle this.

The brunette knew it was cruel, but he had to do it, and as soon as he could, he lost the dead weight in the crowd to continue his press to the back. After cutting threw the slew of heated people, he finally reached the very back wall and crawled into the door that held what he wanted.

Slowly, he finally got into the tiny boutique in the dark place, the IT, as everyone else called it and he immediately pulled out his cell phone.

"Hey, Carlos," he started, turning to look at the other girls and boys that were prettying themselves up as best they could.

"What's going on Logan," the Latin boy replied, munching on something loudly on the other end, "¿Que Pasa?"

"Estoy de trabajo," Logan matched, never letting anyone try to outdo him, "Tengo que ponerme el maquillaje."

"Fine," Carlos gave in, "you know I don't understand a word of what you just said, so I'm assuming it wasn't too scandalous."

"Don't worry," Logan replied, wiping away the smudged eye-liner with cotton swabs, "It wasn't; You're my baby brother, I'm supposed to protect you."

"If that's your job description, then you wouldn't let me go out with friends on a school night," the Latin boy retorted.

"Your friends; I'm not too worried," the brunette said while dipping the little brush into the vile, "they're all dorks in the first place."

"What's that supposed to mean," Carlos responded, slurping at something else in possibly the loudest way he could.

"That's supposed to mean, you and you're theatre geek friends are just that, 'theatre geeks," Logan replied with a smirk, "Matter-of-fact, I bet their both asleep on the couch right now."

"Damn your good."

"I always have been."

"Yeah, I guess that's true; well, I just wanted to check in on you," Carlos said while yawning, "But if you're okay, I think I'm just gonna go."

"See you in the morning," Logan stated while wiping away the last trace of black stain from his eye-lid.

"You too," the Latin boy finished, "And you better not show up too late because I'm making breakfast tomorrow and I'm going to make you eat my eggs."

"What-ever you say C. Bye."

"By-," Logan could hear Carlos try to stay, but he hung up before he could finish because he had other work to do.

Quickly, he started shimming the tight blue jeans down his legs while re-dipping the tiny brush in the black bottle he was shuffling between his fingers. After he felt himself liberated from the choking material, he took too unzipping the leather jacket and revealing his bare chest to the poorly lit mirror in front of him. On any other night, he would have taken the time to examine himself and make sure the burns or cuts or bruises weren't showing, but not tonight. No, he just didn't have time. For one, he was late to start with because he took too long outside and the interlude with the blonde in the hall-way didn't help one bit. So he would just have to rush past his routines to get into costume and out into the party.

He knew it sounded weird, but he didn't do it for the joy of it all, he did it because it was his job. Okay, he did enjoy it though. He enjoyed feeling wanted and lusted after by anyone and especially when those people were very rich. Rich people willing to pay for him. Because in the end, he was the prize and that was where the joy came from. During these things, he could charge anything he wanted and be anything he wanted and still, the money came in.

The money always came in when he went to one of the parties at the 'IT' in the back of the club; the 'IT' was somewhat of a second home for him. It was were the higher bidders showed up for the classier hookers. And by classier, he meant the kinkier. Because what the 'IT' held specifically was a bit of a costume-ball meets giant orgy. No one really had sex in the building, but everyone knew what was going to happen when you walked outside that door. It was payday. Another day of being fed.

Well, for Logan, it wasn't specifically being fed; he could get a simple, minimum wage job if he just needed to afford a cheap apartment and feed himself. No, the reason he did these kinds of things was for the only other person he cared for. He did this for Carlos. Because every time he got into a stranger's bed, he was getting Carlos one more day of school. He gave his little brother one more experience he wasn't allowed; one more dream that could be fulfilled. And when he thought about that aspect of it, he didn't hate it as much. He simply just blocked it out.

And that's why he didn't mind slipping on skin-tight, black booty shorts and a thick, red vest over his upper-region; this was just his current work uniform. He zipped it up halfway, allowing the rest to stay open and reveal his chest area while he carefully pulled the combat boots on over the black, knee high socks. Finally, he grabbed the beanie he had sat in the corner of the station and tugged it on over his dark brown hair and adjusted it to not ruin his locks.

With one last moment to spare, he took a look in the mirror to realize that he still hadn't added his essential piece and quickly, he dipped the brush into the vile one last time and actually applied the eye-liner. Most people would have used pencil, but he couldn't afford that. No, not in his current financial state. It would be buy eye-liner or condoms and he wasn't going to get an STD for MAC; no way in hell. Carefully, so as not to make a mistake, he applied the black over his eyes and resealed the bottle. He thought about mascara for a minute, but he decided that would definitely be pushing it and he already looked incredible in the first place. He looked, well, he, he just knew tonight was going to be good. Tonight was going to be different and, and, and he didn't know how to describe the other thing he was feeling. He guessed it was perfection. He felt Perfect. He looked Perfect. And he had a feeling tonight would be some-what Perfect. As perfect as selling your body could be.

And with one last blown kiss to the mirror, Logan hopped away from the station and reinserted himself into the anxious setting of the party so he could do his job. His job that made him feel special in the oddest way possible.

As Logan stepped out, the blonde was sitting in his seat fondling some girl in a bright blue, PVC costume that pretty much covered her nipples and her, privates, and that was it. She had a long chain around her neck and her blonde hair was in a high pony tail behind her head while the electric blue lipstick she had on shown in the lights. Yet she was not the strangest dressed person there. Neither was Logan in his lumber jack outfit.

Most likely, the strangest prostitute there was in a full body glove went from head-to-toe with 5-inch heels, but hey, no one judged. If that's what you're into, go ahead. But the people around the blonde were costumed in all manners of clothing. There was a Lady Gaga Hooker with a bright blonde hair bow and platform heals and there was a Katy Perry Prostitute who was wearing a bathing suit with strategically placed fruits to add emphasis to her more intimate areas. And there were all manners of male hookers too.

There were a few male prostitutes, the beefier ones, who were walking around wearing nothing at all and letting people examine their muscles while others were walking around in drag. Some wore a teeny, tiny pair of shorts and a few wore loincloths, yet strangely enough, very few went androgynous. Logan was about the only one to be exact. And that's what made him special.

Carefully, the brunette weaved through the party, being passed around and tripped in every direction and still enjoying the attention. A few times, he could feel dollar bills being slipped into his shorts and others, he could feel his crotch being grabbed at, but it didn't matter because it was there right to do that. He forfeited any privacy when he started hooking.

Yet the thick fog of smoke in the air was starting to get to him and he could smell the powdery dust of cocaine covering the back of his black shorts, so he could tell that the drugs were starting to get to him. That was the major downside to his job, the drugs. There were always drugs and Logan knew that; it came with being a hooker in the first place. Some people just needed the sensation to numb them from the situation and some people needed it to heighten it, but it was ultimately needed.

A long time ago, Logan had opted to never do them, taking up smoking in their place, but there were definitely times he regretted that. Especially times like this, when he could feel it all start to get to him.

And that's when he fell forward, forward into someone's some-what occupied lap that was seated in a plush chair in the corner. Into the lap of a tall, beefy blonde boy that he had run into earlier that day.

And Kendall felt the crash of someone different into his half-crowded lap that was being taken up by the electric blue PVC whore. He could feel the short, toned brunette that he had run into earlier that day.

"So, I see we're running into each other again," the blonde started when Logan first brought his head up to study the situation.

"I'm sorry, again," the brunette said while pulling himself up slowly, "I didn't mean to do that."

"Need some help there buddy," Kendall replied while watching the pale-skinned boy struggle to lift himself up.

"It's just, I hit my knee really hard against the floor and, and, it really, really hurts and so if you're going to help me, you're going to have to stop being such an asshole," Logan replied with a small grin.

"Hold up, I was just offering help, I didn't say I was going to give it," the taller teen replied while throwing his hands up, "You're being quite presumptuous right now aren't you."

"God, you probably don't know what that means do you," the brunette said while finally getting back on his feet.

"Oh, so you're a hooker who also has perfect grammar," Kendall responded while staring at the boy in front of him, "You're chucked full of surprises tonight aren't you."

"It's basic English," the shorter teen stated while dusting some of the coke off, "English that you still don't know."

"I do too," Kendall defended, "I'm not just a meat-head. I may be extremely sexy like one, but I have a lot to offer as well."

"Little over confident for someone that's looking for a hooker, but okay, I'll buy," Logan responded, stifling a giggle, "so how much for a night then."

"Ha. Good one. But I don't think I'm paying you for your jokes," Kendall replied, finding himself slowly enthralled by the person in front of him.

"You aren't paying me at all," the brunette retorted, throwing his arms across his chest.

"Okay," the blonde said slowly, "Then how much for a night?"

**Author's Note: OMG! Hooker Logan is so much more fun than Crazy Logan. Or Porn Star Logan. And I finally get to start the Kogan up. Crazy how fast that started. And I swear, more dialogue and less explanations next time, but there were just a few loose ends that desperately needed to be tied with this. Okay. So I hope you enjoyed and review and favorite and alert because it means so much. P.S. sorry if I used the word 'locks' of hair wrong, but I couldn't think of anything else to put there in its place. Sorry for being late as well. Okay, bye for now. Luv ya. XoXo. **


	4. Chapter 4

"For a night, its five-hundred sweet-heart," the blonde hooker inserted, throwing herself across Kendall's lap to regain his attention.

"I didn't ask you, now did I," he replied, lifting the girl off of him roughly, "I was asking him."

"But honey, you're with me," she said, doing her best to make herself look as sexy as possible, "And when you're with me, you don't need to talk with anyone else."

"Then thank god I'm sending you away," Kendall stated while pushing her away farther, "You can go be screw someone else now."

"Well," she started with a scowl across her face and her hands on her hips, "When you're done with the faggy boy and want a real woman, don't come searching for me."

"Wouldn't dream of it hun," he said, this time not even looking in her direction, "Go suck someone else's dick."

She started to walk away flipping Kendall off, but ended up breaking a heel and tripping over someone on the ground, much to her extensions dismay. Never had so much fake blonde hair been thrown across the floor. And Logan couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Hey, Hey, Hey," the blonde started, giving Logan a stern look, "No laughing at that slut over there, that could very easily be you."

"Um, I guess, If I ever started wearing heels and extensions and had a voice like Kat Von frickin D, then yeah, I guess I could easily be that whore," the brunette said with a smile spreading across his face.

"Whore callin-another Whore What?"

"You're hilarious, but apparently, you're paying me for this time, so you best not waist it or you'll end up handing over a million by the end of the night."

"Okay, then name your price."

"Amillion."

"Fine," Kendall replied, his face entirely unchanged.

"Wait, you're being serious" Logan replied, it all starting to dawn on him, "You want pay for me for the night?"

"Why would I not."

"Um, maybe because you're straight; TMZ said you slept with Demi Lovato at that concert were she was you're opening act and then you screwed her back-up dancer within the same hour."

"That's a lot of screwing for one person though, isn't it?"

"You're the epitome of ass-hole, jerk face, jock, pig-headed frat boy that most definitely wouldn't get a male hooker for the night; you're the kind of douche-bag that thinks that being gay is contagious," Logan let slip on accident, forgetting the fact that the blonde made the decision to pay him or not at the end of the night.

"You don't fucking know me," Kendall responded with a slightly stung look covering his face and cocking his head a little.

"Actually, yes, yes I do, because you're world famous super star Kendall Knight, you know, from Big Time Rush, that really shitty teenage girl band," the brunette said honestly, deciding that he didn't give a fuck what the other boy thought of his opinions.

"I'm offended," the blonde said sarcastically, throwing his hand over his chest, "I thought we were a really shitty tweenage girl band. You seem to be giving me too much credit sir and I simply shalln't stand for it."

"Shalln't. Nice word choice. You definitely are proving you're linguistic abilities at the moment aren't you Mr. Knight," Logan responded, finally taking the initiative to seat himself in the spot next to the blonde boy; all of the pressure of his previous words had somehow disappeared entirely.

"See, now that's simply unfair, you know so much about me and I know absolutely nothing about you."

"What do you need to know about me," The brunette questioned, still not sure where this conversation was directly headed.

"Well, we could start with your blood type, but how about your," the blonde threw his hand in the air as if the answer was orbiting the both of them, "Name."

"Um, I'm Max," Logan lied, "I'm Max Ryder."

"Max Ryder," Kendall resaid, tasting the word in his mouth, "Sounds like a bad porn name."

"Well, it's what my parents gave me."

"We both know that's a fucking lie," Kendall replied, looking the prostitute straight in the eyes, "So why don't you try again."

"Okay …. Fine ….. my real name is, well, it's, I'm,"

"Every minute you don't answer is a minute you don't get paid,"

"Uch, you win; my name is Logan, Logan Mitchell."

"See, much better isn't it now that we're being truthful," Kendall responded, taking a sip of the wine glass next to him, "You know what, I think that that deserves a treat," the blonde pulled a dollar out of his pocket. "_Yes, you can get it, get it girl, get the money_," he said in a condescending tone while holding the money above the brunette, Logan's, head.

"If you don't stop patronizing, I'm going to take this steal-toe boot off and beat you in the head with it," Logan replied, pointing at his shoe, "And you'd hate to be the brain dead member of a shitty tweenage girl band wouldn't you Mr. Knight."

"Fine," he spat out, faking anger, "You win. But all it is a dollar; you want more, you dance for me."

"I'm not a stripper, I'm an," the brunette swallowed hard, "I'm an Escort."

"Same Fucking difference, now do it or I'm only going to pay you three dollars for your time," the blonde said with a smug look painting his face.

"Fine, you want to see my dancing abilities, then enjoy."

In all honesty, Kendall did kind of want to see Logan dance, even just to have the boys unique presence, but he definitely wasn't expecting what would happen next.

Carefully, so as to not tip the object over, Logan climbed on top of the tall marble table that was seated next to where they were and he stomped his clunky boot against the cold stone surface. The loud boom of the shoe against the table top echoed through the setting as each member became silent and turned to look at where the brunette was standing.

With all of the focus on him, the brunette started his improvised routine as best he could; he smacked his lips together a few times before straddling the large, metal bar that bolted the table from the ceiling to the ground and bent himself backwards, much to the crowd's approval.

He stood back up before feeling a spot on the beam and riding down slowly with his eyes closed. And with all of this slowness, he surprised the crowd with a high energy leap onto the top of the metal. He slid down the bar while spinning in the sexiest manner possible before licking the bar from top to bottom with his tongue slowly, swaying his hips to the musical beat as he did it.

When he finally reached the top, he spun around to face the crowd and threw the heavy, red vest off and onto the ground to loud applause and whistles. Money came flying from each direction as he hopped off the table and picked up the cash; immediately after the show was over, the scene returned to normal.

In the slinkiest way possible, Logan grabbed his vest and got back into the seat next to Kendall with the cash lining his thin white belt that held the booty shorts up.

"So, how was that to your liking," the brunette said while slamming himself down next to the blonde.

"Um, for starters, when does anyone say 'to your liking,' anymore," the blonde started, the sarcasm already re-implanting itself in his voice, "And for two, I'm really hoping that you're more of an exotic dancer than anything else, because that was fucking hot."

"It's funny to hear such a goody-goody-two-shoes like you curse this much," the brunette replied, snickering at the destroyed image he had of the boy now.

"As if you've never cussed," the blonde responded quirking his eyebrow at the half-naked teen next to him, "You just called me an asshole a minute ago."

"No, I called you an Asshole because that's what you are, not because I was cursing at you, but because that's simply a title you hold besides President of the Bubble Gum Pop Club," Logan said while taking the money out of his belt, "But after watching you tonight, I think that you're just in the Bubble Gum Pop Game to get some Bubble Gum Ass. Let me guess, you've hit Selena up a few times; awe, but poor thing's thin as a rail, so I'm sure you couldn't have gotten that much out of her. Oh wait, I here singers like the bony type."

"Real funny Sweetheart, but you can't expect me to take someone who nags me home for the night if I already have my manager on speed dial."

"You have your manager on speed dial. And you use speed dial."

"I'm a celebrity, not a dork, so yeah, I do use speed dial. A lot."

"You don't have to be a dork to know how to properly use technology, you have to care. Obviously, you don't."

"You surprise me more every minute with your, you. Aren't hookers supposed to be drugged up, air-heads?"

"And you shock me with how much of an ass hat you are as we sit here so I guess we're both full of surprises tonight, aren't we."

"I thought smart people knew not to insult their bosses," the blonde retorted, grabbing his glass to take a sip out of it again.

"Unless you plan on becoming my pimp, then you aren't my boss," the brunette replied, grabbing the glass out of the blonde's hands, "and that's why I can do this too." He opened his hand and let the glass slip out, splinters of clear chunks clattering everywhere with champagne interlaced in them.

"Oh, so you're a badass too,"

"For a certain price, I'll be anything you want me to be."

Logan had meant it somewhat ironically - having watched Pretty Woman a hundred times, he thought he knew what the cliché hooker would say- yet the blonde didn't exactly seem to get it. There was a certain new, intensity, to his features when he delivered his next line.

"Name it. Name it now. Name it now before it's too late. Because I can't wait forever," the blonde half-growled out, half-moaned from his position over the smaller boy on the black couch.

"Ar-Are you be-being serious," Logan whimpered out, slightly frightened.

It wasn't that he was scared of the intensity, he had seen it all after two years of this business, but it was the boy himself. Logan had slept with tons of men. He'd slept with tons of women. It was the job description. But rarely was it someone beautiful. Someone rich or famous or incredibly good looking or muscular or …. It was someone who needed a hooker. So Logan couldn't lie when he said he was intimidated by this. Why would someone like Kendall stake his career on a hooker?

"What the fuck have we been flirting about all night Logan," the blonde said, the frustration bleeding into his voice heavily, a definite change from earlier.

"Look, you need to carefully think this through; I'm, I'm -,"

"You're a Hooker,"

"Escort,"

"Same Difference,"

"That's an Oxymoron, but I'll let it slide; look, you're Kendall Knight, you're straight and a good role model, and, and, -,"

"If I get caught with you, I could get in trouble and fuck up my career," the taller teen coaxed, wrapping his arm around the shorter one slowly.

"Yeah," Logan breathed out, the relief of him understanding starting to crash over him; he didn't know why, but for some reason, he actually felt himself care about this client.

"So."

"So, so this is your life and you're lively hood and you have this huge stage and opportunity and you have your career. What about your career?"

"Look, you may not understand this entirely, but screw my career and screw anyone that has a problem with this because for one fucking time, I actually want something."

"Something?"

"Yeah, I want you, so name your price now before I go. I can't wait forever."

And then if dawned on Logan a little; in the end, this was another client, another person who was going to walk out of his life as soon as they stepped in. So why should he care when he had real things to care about. Real things like his brother. Real things like Carlos, the person he was actually supposed to care for.

"A _thousand_," he let slip out, not realizing that the words had actually materialized before they breached the air.

"A thousand a night?"

"A thousand an hour,"

Immediately, the blonde grabbed a few bills from his pocket and slammed them in Logan's hand as fast as he possibly could.

"This is – This is one thousand dollars," Logan stuttered out, not holding this much cash in his hand at once ever.

"Yeah, you're price. Because I want you. Proof enough. And now I want to take you home," Kendall put his arm fully around the brunette, semi-trapping him in an odd way to ensure the deal.

Logan paused for a moment, weighing his feelings on what he should do; the choice was between the boy he'd just met, Kendall and the boy he'd sworn to provide for, Carlos. And Logan would always choose family over anything else; it was all that mattered to him. It was all that mattered because it was the only for sure thing he had to hold onto. It was the only thing he cared about. Carlos, his baby brother with big dreams and big talent, and so he had to do this, he had to take the money. And yet for some strange reason, he felt guilty, like he had hurt the other boy through his decision. He couldn't have begun to foresee the damage he'd do in the end.

**Author's Note: I love Big Time Rush. Big Time Rush doesn't. I don't know how to write pole dances. That's my best attempt; I hope it wasn't too terrible. ****So review and do all of that rockin stuff so I can get really motivated and excited. If for anything, because I love you.**

**Luv ya. XoXo.**


	5. Chapter 5

The drive home was interesting for the both of them; Logan spent the whole ride taking the money out of his shorts and counting it while Kendall checked him out from his driver's seat next to him. Logan was definitely an interesting person to him; he was an extremely good-looking, young, male hooker who was also smart. That was a total anomaly. Every other hooker Kendall had met, male or female, was almost assuredly stupid. It was like being a ditz was the only thing they knew besides dick. And yet Logan was different, he was, _sassy_. Sassy in an entirely different way; he wasn't sassy as in, gay best friend sassy. He was sassy as in, 'don't fuck with my or I'll give you an STD' sassy. Somewhere between ironic and sarcastic. He was gorgeous, smart and funny; he was the kind of boy you'd bring home to your parents. Only one problem, he was a hooker. For some reason, Kendall kept forgetting about that part though.

When they first pulled up in the sleek car, Logan was at a loss to try to explain the place they stopped at; was there a name for something bigger than a mansion that wasn't castle? Maybe, Palace was the best word choice to describe the house that he had been taken too.

In his whole life he'd never actually been up close and personal with wealth like this - the closest he'd ever come was the Warners – so this was just all so new for him. In a way, it almost paralyzed him, but he didn't realize just how true that was until his door jumped alive in front of him and swung out.

"Come on," the blonde started, starring at the house, "We don't have all day and if I'm going to pay, I at least get to enjoy my time."

"Sorry," the brunette replied quietly, still taken in by the current scene, "It's just, it's all, this is just all so much to take in at once."

"What, you live in some cheap studio apartment in the other part of town,"

Logan nodded his head slowly, looking at Kendall with genuine honesty.

"Oh, I'm … I – I'm not exactly sure what I expected you to say," Kendall said with his eyes glued to the ground, "Again. Sorry."

"It's fine; What should I have expected," Logan retorted, venom in his voice making it obvious that he was going to strike, "You're, you, you're some millionaire playboy singer and I'm just another play-thing. I'm another midnight guest."

"Look, I didn't mean to make you feel that way Logan," Kendall started, closing off the space between himself and the smaller boy.

"What exactly did you mean by saying that then?"

"It's just, I – I'm being a giant ass right now and I get that, but, I don't know you that well."

"You know my name and you know my game."

"Not exactly."

"I'm a hooker, what else is there to know with you."

"I thought you were an Escort Logan," the blonde responded, a devious grin curling his lips when he finally wrapped his arms around the brunette's hips.

Logan liked the warmth of Kendall's touch; it was so different than anything else he normally received from his clients. Everyone else he'd ever, attended, too always wanted you in and then out. No one ever talked to him besides rough grunts or low moans and they never touched him ever unless it was in some kind of sexual manner. So it was weird for Logan to get this warm feeling; it made him feel like more than what he was. It made him feel a lot of things and think a lot of things and do a lot of things and on accident, he let himself go a little and imagined a new life of doing this every day; having this blonde boy's touch.

Bad idea; don't ever climb huge, mansion steps while having your brain in other places like so, it just won't end well. Logan learned that the hard way while climbing up a tall, white step with Kendall's arm on his waist; immediately, he tipped forward and went straight into the concrete, hitting it hard while going straight into his palms, feeling the blonde's arm disconnect from himself.

Immediately, Kendall jumped a little when it happened and watched as the teen he was holding fell hard into the cold steps of the house. At first, he tried to grab for him, but he was too late and ended up grabbing a piece of the back of his vest and cutting Logan's abs a little. Kendall would have blamed that on the fall if he could, but after hearing the zipper strain and the brunette screech worse, he was pretty sure he'd done it himself. Plus, Logan crying out, "The Zipper just fricking cut me," could have also been a sign. There were lots of them.

After a few harsh breaths, Logan finally stood up and examined his torn palms and knees while swiping away at the small string of blood slipping down his chest.

And though he knew he shouldn't of, Kendall began to laugh. He began to laugh really, really, really hard.

"What the hell are you laughing at," Logan said with a scowl while zipping the vest up all the way to cover up the blood stains, "you know, this is the whole 'asshole' thing we talked about."

"It's just, *cackle* It's just *laugh* It was so fu-*breath*-ucking funny how you hit the floor. *Laugh* And then – And then you were all, *Cackle* 'The zipper just frickin cut me' and, and,*giggle*," Kendall choked out, having the worst time possible controlling the laughter.

"Okay, there is absolutely nothing funny about any of that, Like at all, So I'm not seeing the pleasure you're getting from this," the brunette replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I can - *laugh*- I can't even fu-fuc *cackle* fucking talk that was so fucking fu-funny, it's just, you *laugh* fell again, you- you, dumb…." The blonde somehow breathed out, starting to double over in pain from how hard he was laughing.

"Whore," Logan finished, pouting his lips out in the most superior way possible.

"Yup," Kendall responded, grabbing onto the shorter teen's shoulder for support before he fell over.

"Ass," the brunette retorted, taking a quick step away from the cackling blonde and forcing him onto the ground; of course, the fall was by no means as bad, "Are you drunk?"

"Drunk on Laughter," Kendall replied, picking himself back up and quieting down the incessant giggling from before, "You're pretty fucking funny."

"I'm happy I can provide that service for you, but that's an extra three thousand dollar fee,"

"Oh, is it, because I think you might need to start paying me for handsomeness," Kendall said, perking himself up to be as tall as he could possibly be, "and pure charm. You're lucky really to have me; you could have gone home with some old, bald guy instead."

"I guess you're right."

"I guess I am aren't I."

"I just said that."

"I felt it should be repeated; it's just so true."

"You know, I'm so close to just giving you your money back and going home,"

"That would be a shame."

"No, what would be a shame would be if I murder you on this doorstep."

"OH MY GOD, yes, it absolutely would be, because then the world wouldn't get to have me, Kendall Knight, second half of the amazing, all ages, all genders band, Big Time Rush."

"I'm going."

"Okay, bye."

"Here's your money," Logan said, refusing to give up his bluff yet while holding out the folded stack of bills.

"Okay, well, here I go to get it," Kendall responded, walking up slowly to retrieve what was in Logan's hand, holding his poker face just as well as he brunette was.

And just as he started to grab for the cash, he scooped Logan from behind with one arm while grabbing the back of his head with the other and immediately caught the brunette in a kiss. A very, very unexpected kiss.

Logan genuinely expected him to call his bluff and take the money, but by no means did he ever expect the blonde to kiss him. To seize him and bring their lips together like that.

It wasn't, It wasn't supposed to be like this; no, not at all, Logan was not supposed to enjoy any part of this besides maybe the glamour. He wasn't supposed to enjoy his client, his client was supposed to enjoy him.

He wasn't supposed to love the way the blonde's lips were forced against his own; he wasn't supposed to like that Kendall's tongue was inside his mouth. He wasn't supposed to enjoy the blonde putting his fingers through the brunette's locks of hair or knocking his beanie onto the ground. He wasn't supposed to simply want to never lose the touch of his client again.

And yet he did.

He loved the way that Kendall was forcing himself into his mouth, slowly pushing his tongue in a gentle way that was all the while exciting. He loved the way it felt when he could feel the other boy's breath against his own, the contact making him dizzy with pleasure. He loved the way their tongue's collided, forming a wet heat that he was absolutely sure no amount of humidity could ever try to beat. He loved it all.

And he wasn't supposed too.

After a long time, he broke the kiss off abruptly out of nowhere, quickly spinning out of the taller boy's reach and grabbing his fallen hat in the process.

"I, I – that was inappropriate," Logan stuttered out, hating the fact that he was going to have to try to mask his feelings.

"Inappropriate? Coming from a Hooker. Those shorts are rather inappropriate, but I haven't been complaining," Kendall replied, grabbing Logan's half-exposed ass and forcing him to jump a little.

"Look, you shouldn't have done that and you know it," Logan started, doing his best to use an authoritative sounding voice.

"I'm sorry to break this to you Logan, but you aren't Julia Roberts and I'm not Richard Gere," Kendall responded, quirking one of his eyebrows, "Currently, we are not in the 'Pretty Woman' Remake."

"That's not why," Logan breathed out quietly, almost trying to hide it in a way.

"But if we were, it'd be like one thousand times hotter and have a real fucking blonde," the blonde mused, pulling the shorter teen in just a little bit tighter.

"I – I don't want to bit … nag at you anymore, but it's just that I'd rather not, kiss on the lips, okay," the brunette said slowly, emphasizing every word to the best of his ability.

And it was driving Kendall insane; why was this boy so damn different. In the last year, the blonde had hooked up with tons of hookers all over the world; they kind of had a tendency to hang near band vans. Yet Logan was different, he wasn't like the rest; the other ones that the blonde had experienced had about as much brains as a three year-old, so a witty response to anything he said would be absolutely miraculous.

But when this new boy was around, it was expected.

And when he'd take them to his bed room and lock the door, the only thing they ever wanted to do was to kiss on the lips; to feel like something more than a hooker. To feel like for one minute, they were that only girl that was special and nobody else was like; that everyone envied. For a lot of the hook-ups Kendall had had, kissing was the only way to keep the other one from crying.

But when this boy was around, it was inappropriate.

And just the use of the word for some reason mystified Kendall about the 'Escort,' he had with him; what about kissing was inappropriate. It was kind of a uniform way of saying, 'I like you;' for Kendall, it was simple fore-play. It was required if he was ever to get to more intimate areas, and the brunette rejected it. He turned it down as if he was offended it happened in the first place; like he was embarrassed to be caught kissing Kendall Knight.

The blonde was getting lost and wrapped up in his current train of thought when Logan's voice finally chimed in on him.

"Kendall, Kendall, you okay," the brunette said, waving his hand in front of the blonde to wake him from his haze.

"I'm fine Log…urt," the blonde replied, finishing it a different way to try on nicknames for some reason.

"I was called that my whole middle school experience; it was what bullies use to call me when I pissed off the wrong person," Logan said while taking Kendall's hand in his own and continuing up the steps to the house.

"Okay, so that definitely won't be it," Kendall agreed and continued to let himself be dragged up to the door.

"You know this is a one night thing; you're paying me for this, you don't need to try to front," the shorter teen said while finally reaching the door, "No fore-play needed."

"I want to somewhat get to know you, otherwise I'm about to fuck a stranger," the blonde said while taking his keys out of his pocket.

"I've slept with a lot of strangers; you'll get over it,"

"No, not me; I'll need to call you something like, like, Logain,"

"Sounds too much like Rogain and I don't have a hair problem."

"What about Loga."

"The PVC girl you were with earlier is a yoga instructor by day; try again."

Logan grabbed the keys out of Kendall's hands and put the object into the hole quickly to get the huge, white doors open.

"Um, Loge Cabin,"

"That one didn't make sense,"

"It was supposed to be like Log Cabin"

"Okay, then it's just plain stupid."

The brunette finally heard the door unlatch and pushed the giant frame slowly, creaking the door little-by-little as if fearful of it.

"What about, What about, What about,"

"Our thunder shout."

"Not funny, I'm trying to figure you out a nickname."

"Last chance before I force you to give up and just call me Logan."

"I got it, how about Log … ie?,"

"Logie?"

"Yeah, Logie."

"Actually, I like that,"

"Good, cause I'm going to be grunting it in your ear in a minute," Kendall growled out before pushing Logan in the door and swiftly locking it. Both boys ran to the master bedroom in the left wing of the mansion and upon arrival, Kendall clicked the door shut.

And the damage to the head board started immediately afterwards.

**Authors Note: I really hope you got the head board thing; I'd hate to have innuendo go above anyone's head. That would be absolutely tragic. And I like the nickname, "Logurt." I may start referring to him that way full time. Review my lovely little readers. Luv Ya. XoXo.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Lots of Dirty Talk for those faint of … Naughtiness. **

"That was *breath* that was really," Kendall breathed out, putting his hands behind his head while adjusting on the plush pillow, "That was really hot."

"Um …. Yeah, it was," Logan replied slowly before quickly adding, "I guess."

"What, you're too cool for me now," the blonde said, turning slightly to face the other boy on the bed.

"No, no, it's just," the brunette looked away in embarrassment, "I'm usually not this sore."

"What do you *breath* mean, 'sore,'" Kendall feigned ignorance, curious to hear the other teens explanation while finally catching his breath.

"It's just that," the shorter boy finally looked up, "I, I don't usually, handle packages, per se, of your kind."

"Are you talking about my junk," the blonde replied, starring over the brunette intently.

"Are you sure you're in a Boy Band,"

"Not Boy Band, World Dominating Band; there's a difference. There's a difference."

"Like the Difference between Hooker and Escort."

"Exactly, but neither of those statements answer my original question do they now; are you talking about my d-,"

"YES!" Logan spat out quickly, trying to obliterate the word before it ever breached the air.

"So my Dic …. sco Stick made you all sore," The blonde stated with a wide smile spreading across his face.

"Yes," the shorter boy responded honestly, blocking his eyes from the blonde's view, "Your Disco Stick was very, um, big."

"Wow, I've never had a Hooker tell me that it was that good," the taller boy said with a wider smile than before, "Usually they're too loose to feel anything in the first place."

"Well, you're quite, well endowed in the Disco Stick department and, and," Logan lowered his voice to a whisper, "I usually don't feel that much."

"Did you just confess to me that you usually can't feel it,"

"No, that's not what I said; I said I don't feel it that much because there's a difference."

"Then make me understand."

"Well, um, the biggest thing I've ever handled was," the brunette swallowed hard before forcing himself to continue, "four inches."

"Biggest Client in years was four inches; no wonder you didn't feel anything."

"Look, most men who need a prostitute aren't exactly the most attractive guys and, and, they never have, the disco equipment you have," Logan said quickly, still trying to regain certain feelings again.

"So we're gonna stick with calling my junk Disco related things like my 'Disco Balls,' or my 'Disco Stick'," Kendall said with air quotes.

"Yes, honestly, I'd prefer that," the brunette replied, finally looking up at Kendall who was so comfortable in his spot.

"You know, you're possibly the strangest whore I've ever met,"

"I prefer to not be referred to as a 'Whore,' thank you very much,"

"Fine, Strangest Escort, happy."

"Yes, very much so."

"Anyway, you're really weird."

"In what sense,"

"In the sense that you work with cock and all that all day and refuse to even acknowledge the words existence."

"I, I prefer not to use too much profanity Kendall, that's all."

"You don't like to fucking cuss; what the shit is wrong with you, especially cause you already have such a smart fucking ass mouth."

"No, I don't have a problem with the cursing aspect; I can use it. But why do you have to use such blunt, shock words when there are plenty that are quite descriptive that you ignore. It's slightly repulsive to me; in a way it seems vulgar to use that kind of language so much when you can use different, better words, like vulgar for instance."

"Fine, but that doesn't explain your weirdness with the word dick; if you have a problem, then why not use penis," the Blonde asked, determined to at least begin to figure out the other person he was in bed with, "or scrotum or anus or things like that. If you have to be all sciencey, use them."

"It's not that, its' just that, I wasn't raised that way okay,"

"Neither was I and I can still use the 'fuck'-word freely, so I don't see how that's an excuse at all."

"Look, you've known me for about ….." Logan trailed off, trying to actually calculate the time in his head; this was surprisingly harder than he had thought.

"Six hours,"

"Yeah, six hours and that doesn't mean you know me know me; you don't know my situation and you don't know how I grew up at all, so you have no right to judge. Plus, you're still an Asshole," the brunette finished with a small grin forming.

"See, that's a Cuss right there,"

"I've said it once and I'll say it again, it is your Title, not an adjective, therefore it is not just a profane word, especially when it's used to describe you correctly," the shorter one said like he was a professor lecturing, "It's simply proper English."

"Proper English is it; would that mean that me saying that you have the hottest Ass in America be a title as well."

"Na-,"

"I can see it now, President Logan, Logan, Logan Michaels, Hottest Ass in the World."

"You don't even remember my last name."

"I thought you said 'I didn't know you that well;' I was just trying to strengthen your argument."

"Still an Asshole,"

"No, that's what you are, remember, because yours is sore."

"Kendall!,"

"Ah, you know my name now and I know yours; we're closer than you thought."

"Yeah, I guess we ar- Wait! What time is it," the Brunette asked quickly, slightly jumping at the very thought.

"It's … it's five a.m.," the blonde replied while checking the clock on the nightstand, "why does it matter?"

"I have to go," Logan responded, hopping out of bed and running over to were his clothes were, "Right now."

"Were are you off too, it's not like you have standing appointments," Kendall stated, "Wait, you don't have standing appointments do you?"

"Look, I really have to go and," the brunette ran his fingers through his hair, "Crap!"

"What now,"

"I, I can't wear this home and I left my spare clothes at the club last night," frantically, the shorter teen was pulling his shorts up quickly, "I need to be home by, right now."

"Look, let me help you out," Kendall said, slowly raising himself out of bed and standing up on his feet.

"No, that's not fair," Logan responded, zipping up the vest to the best of his ability.

The blonde walked up to the brunette and tried to calm him down, but he was moving too fast, dodging and launching, pulling clothes on and moving about frantically. Kendall was at a loss on how to calm him down before he remembered before and immediately, he caught Logan's face and re-pulled their lips together to get the boy to take a break.

What he didn't expect was Logan's reaction, again; as soon as he connected their lips, Logan broke the kiss off and pushed Kendall away from himself, forcing the two apart.

"I told You!" he began to shout before stopping himself and taking a breath, "I told you I didn't like to do that. Please. Stop."

"Look, I don't know what your deal with that is, but I'm trying to help you,"

"Slipping your tongue down my throat is doing neither of us any favors right now is it," Logan responded, sitting himself back down on the bed to grab a moment to think.

"Just calm down and let me help you out okay, I'm not gonna try to cheat you or anything like that, I just want to give you some help. Is that that bad?" the blonde said, putting his hand on the other boy's shoulders.

"I- I guess not," Logan finally let out, feeling the instant relief of some of the current pressure being taken off of him.

"Okay, now I'm going to find you something to wear and all and, well,"

"I need to get this make-up off,"

"Yeah, why don't you go do that right now and we'll meet back here," Kendall stated, making sure he made his voice crystal clear and demanding; he was going to help the boy whether he wanted it or not.

Logan nodded his head slowly and immediately, Kendall was off, going over a list of things he could give the brunette to wear home. It wasn't that the Blonde needed the clothes or even was stingy, but for some reason, he felt like he should take this seriously. He wasn't exactly sure why, but this certain prostitute made him feel so much different than anyone else. For once, he didn't feel like he had to pretend for anyone. Maybe he could let his walls down.

But that was ridiculous, he couldn't just start trusting this person he'd just met just a few hours before; he had no clue who Logan was besides the fact that he was a Hooker and Gay. Okay, maybe not gay, but possibly gay. Well, he knew that he was at least into guys or wasn't against being into guys or, or …. Kendall was lost.

And that's what he hated the most out of all of it; the fact that he felt feelings for someone he didn't even know. The fact that he some-what cared about this boy that he had just met hours before and just paid for sex with. That's what their relationship was; it was worth less than friends-with-benefits because at least with that, you knew your sparring partner. He knew absolutely nothing all that considerable about the brunette.

Yet he couldn't shake his current feelings about him and that's why picking the clothes had to have meaning; he knew it made him sound crazy, but at least for him, it would mean something. It would make him feel something. And that's what he needed wasn't it; to actually feel any feeling that weren't sadness or loneliness.

After a long time of indecision, he grabbed one of his own blue converse jackets and a pair of gray basketball shorts, but that still wasn't enough. The brunette needed a shirt and then inspiration hit; he knew exactly where he could get a shirt with meaning. Immediately, he ran to the other wing of the house to were James room was and went straight into the huge, walk-in closet filled with all plethora of clothing.

Quickly, after trifling through every section of leather and jean and flannel and fitted, he finally found a small section of clothes that were different. On the outside, they looked like T-shirts, but for James, they were the tall boy's prized possessions. Most likely he was going to scream at Kendall when he realized one was gone, but for now, the blonde didn't care to worry about that. He had more important things to deal with. Rushed, he flipped through each shirt before he found one that he liked and snatched it. He admired his choice for one more second before flipping all of the lights off and running across the house and up the stairs in a hurry. He couldn't wait for the Brunette's reaction any longer.

Logan knew it was bad, but there were other reasons he was eager for the Blonde to simply leave him alone; he desperately needed a moment. A moment to think and sort and get all of himself lined up before he broke down too hard. And he was absolutely sure he was going to have a complete break down at the moment, but if he was able to think straight, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it would be bearable.

And just like he had thought before, he immediately felt his walls collapse upon themselves and the flood gates were opened. This was all too much for him. All he ever wanted was a simple life, not one like this. He hated that he was just someone's play thing, no different than he ever was in foster care. No different than he ever was in life. There was a reason that he never stayed late with a client even if he wanted too; there was a reason that he permitted what he did and acted the way he acted. He didn't want to feel things. He didn't want to feel any of this. Because by acknowledging that there were even feelings that could go along with this was acknowledging that he wasn't strong enough to deal with them and he couldn't possibly bear that.

Quickly, he rushed to the bathroom while batting tears away and smearing eye-liner all over his own face to get away from the bed. To get away from anything that could remind him of what he'd done or who he'd done it with. Logan turned the knobs on the sink fast before plugging it and filling the opening with as much water as possible. Looking around, he ensured no one could see and then he dove forward, pushing his head into the water to do his best to get himself out of this. To somehow close these feelings off while allowing the others to pass. To momentarily let the sensation of letting it all go take over before reason would kick in and save him. In a bizarre way, Logan was literally drowning himself in his own misery.

Finally, he came up for air and unplugged the sink, allowing the water to drain before examining himself carefully in the mirror. His make-up was everywhere, creating a black stain all over his cheeks, but otherwise, he looked relatively normal. His eyes weren't all that puffy and he wasn't trembling or pouting, he just looked, like himself. He grabbed the towel and wiped his face off as fast could to get rid of the muck and continue, but the urge suddenly hit him. Quickly, he pulled a cigarette out and lit it fast, putting it up to his lips with furious intensity to reawaken himself to his wanted feelings as fast as possible. As soon as he felt the smoke mingle with his breath and the sensation hit him, he instantly felt relieved, life flooding back into himself.

Then he heard Kendall's foot-steps come up from the stair well.

In a flurry, Logan put the cigarette out on the counter before throwing the thing in the toilet and flushing it down, knocking the ashes into the filled garbage can nearby.

"Hey there Logie," Kendall started, holding the sets of clothes up, "Look what Kendall brought you!"

"You're doing that patronizing thing again," Logan replied, crossing his arms over his chest and turning to face the blonde.

"Well, I just thought you'd really enjoy this particular thing a lot and I was so excited for you to see it," the taller teen responded, pulling the shirt up from behind his back grinning.

"Seriously."

"Seriously, and I actually expect you to wear it, so get to changing right now because it's almost five-twenty; I'll meet you by the car."

Logan pulled the shirt on over his head and looked over at Kendall, thinking about his prier statement.

"What do you mean, at the car," Logan questioned, unsure of what was meant at all.

"You actually think I'm going to let you go by yourself at five in the morning," Kendall replied smugly back.

"Um, yeah."

"No way in hell; now get dressed so I can take you. And no saying no because I'm determined. Got it. DETERMINED!" the blonde shouted while heading down the stairs slowly.

"Fine, you win," the brunette responded with a smile, thinking about the boy rather than all of his current problems. Quickly, he slipped the shorts on and the shoes before grabbing the coat and putting it on hurriedly. He turned back and looked into the mirror before he really saw himself; Kendall had dressed him in ridiculously big basketball shorts that were a surprisingly bright shade of gray with a navy blue coat and what exactly to top it off, but the shirt.

The Big Time Rush shirt with James and Kendall's picture on it and in big, bold letters, '**Live it Big Time.'** Logan laughed a little while examining the shirt, but he was then interrupted by the sound of the horn from outside. Taking the hint, he ran over and grabbed the booty shorts, vest, and the beanie before skipping down the stairs to get out the big door. Kendall was standing outside the car with a grin that could make a Cheshire jealous when Logan first came out in all of his clothes and all the brunette could do was grin back. He was starting to like the blonde a little more, but he still found him somewhat annoying. _Smug Bastard. _

**Author's Note: For everyone that wants to cyber slap me for no sexy at all in the last two chapters, WAIT! Before you back hand me, I do have this one little *spoiler* to reveal. I just started writing Chapter eight. And you know what's in Chapter Eight. A Warning. And you know what that warning says. Smut. So before you bitch slap me, keep that in mind. It ****is definitely**** may be filthy. Okay, now review and cyber slap me. I'm ready! Luv Ya. XoXo.**


	7. Chapter 7

Logan was still slightly embarrassed by the outfit he had on, but he knew that he had other obligations and he wasn't going to make Carlos suffer just because his shorts were past his knees. Far past his knees. No, no, he was going to hold his head up high and act like he always did when he came home in the morning.

As soon as he first put the key in the slot, he heard the lock unlatch and the door swung open to reveal the Latin boy behind it.

"Thank God!" Carlos exclaimed while ushering Logan into the small apartment, "I was actually starting to get genuinely worried about you."

"Worried. About. Me. At five in the morning," Logan grabbed a chair from the tiny table and spun it so that he was straddling it to sit down, "pfft. Gurl you crazy."

"Very funny," the Latin boy replied, walking back over to the Kitchen area and flipping the pancakes he had sitting on the stove, "but you promised to be here for breakfast."

"And I am," the brunette said, "Or are you making that specially for me."

"Well, no because we haven't had it yet, but that's not the point; you could have missed it. You seriously almost did," Carlos stated while putting the different foods he had made on plates and bringing it to the table.

"Yum, looks … delicious," Logan said with a slightly disdained look, "but question; is the toast supposed to be black?"

"Just go wake tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee up before we eat so that they can have some too; we have a really busy day today," the Latino wasn't done getting everything set at the table, but he had to admit, after seeing what he'd cooked, he had no intention of eating any himself.

"Fine," Logan gave in before trudging over to the two girls asleep on the couch, "wake up."

"You know that that's not going to do shit as far as getting anyone up for breakfast," Carlos interjected while putting the silverware out.

"Laura, Jennifer, wake the frig up or I'm going to beat you with a frying pan."

Immediately both girls jumped from their respective spots on the couch and turned, looking around widely to the setting. One, Laura, had mascara running down her cheek and the other, Jennifer, had her hair stuck to her face from what was either drool or sweat. Logan was genuinely afraid to try to acquire the answer to that.

"God Logan," the blonde girl, Jennifer, moaned, "You sound like some kind of freaky Dominatrix when you yell like that."

"And not in the good way either," Laura, the brunette, joined in.

"I was just following orders," Logan defended before pointing to the Latin boy who had finally finished setting up the table, "He was the one who gave me the orders to wake you two up; how was I supposed to say no."

"You could have interpretive danced for me," Carlos finally interrupted, laughing at his own joke because of how bad a dancer Logan was.

"I'll have you know that I'm a rather good dancer thank you very much and I could have so expressed the words to you through choreography and you're just jealous that you'll never get to see it," the brunette boy replied, finally seating himself at the tiny table.

"Right, you're about as good a dancer as I am mathematician,"

"Oh, so I'm that bad."

"Ha, Ha, very funny Logan, but I take no shame in my poor math skills; I'm rather proud that I don't know what the quantadradiac formula is."

"You mean the quadratic."

"Yeah, that one, and anyway, I don't need math; I'm going to be an actor."

"What if a director wants to scam you out of your proper pay and you can't decide on the formula to use to figure out if he is or isn't."

"That's what I have you for Bro."

"Thanks, I feel so loved at the moment."

"Good, I hope you know you're always appreciated."

"Um-ha, I know," Logan responded sarcastically, taking a bite out of the horribly burnt omelet and swallowing hard.

After a long silence as the three other people in the apartment swallowed their meal as fast as they could to get it over with, Laura finally broke the silence.

"So, how did your nursing job go tonight," the brunette girl asked Logan while she filled her cup of orange juice back up to the brim.

"Yeah, how was it, anything interesting happen," Carlos added on while finishing putting all his books in his bag, "Like, you know, was there any cool blood and guts or like, really romantic old couples their together."

"I don't work for 'Grey's Anatomy' Carlos," the shorter teen started, taking a long sip from the water he had set in front of him.

"You're a night shift nurse, I'm absolutely sure your day turns out like General Hospital at one point," the Latin boy replied while starting to clear the dishes away.

"Nope; it was a boring, uneventful night with the rest of the staff," Logan lied, "nothing particularly interesting at all."

"Well, who gave you the new T-shirt then," Carlos pressed on, pointing to the 'Big Time Rush' shirt that Logan was desperately trying to hide.

"Its prank week down at the hospital and someone replaced all the clothes in my locker with this get-up," the brunette continued the fib, "but other than that, boring."

"Sometimes, I'm convinced your lying to me," the Latin boy continued, making a show out of nothing, "because Prank week doesn't sound boring; Prank week sounds like more fun than three days straight of playing COD."

"Right, because as a Nurse, I'm supposed to know what COD means aren't I," the pale teen quipped back to Carlos who was nodding his head. Then everyone went back to work and quiet fell over the small apartment that Logan was currently cleaning up.

There was very little that Logan didn't tell Carlos, but there was one thing.

Hooking.

That was the only truth his brother didn't know about him. Okay, one of the only truths his brother didn't know. Because Logan just, he just didn't have the heart to tell his little brother how they got the money to pay for school. He couldn't confess that he gave himself up so the Latin boy could succeed in life; he knew the other boy would quit school and try to get a job and help if he found out. And that's exactly what he didn't want.

So instead, he lied that he got a job as a Night Shift nurse at the local hospital and that's how he got paid when he did. He accredited his weird work hours and strange outfits to that. And the weirder thing was, Carlos believed him. He wondered about it sometimes, but silently he thanked any god out there for that. He just wouldn't know how to break it to Carlos.

The rest of the early morning went by much faster than breakfast; Laura, Jennifer, and Carlos left an hour after their last conversation and the brunette was alone for a while. That really didn't last that long though because Carlos ended up rushing back to the house to get his helmet he had left behind for his newest audition. After a lengthy, tiring search for the black thing, Logan found it in the dryer and swiftly sent Carlos off with his protection. His little brother was always doing irresponsible things like that.

And the Latin boy left all of the dishes out from his cooking adventure, so of course Logan had to go through and wash each one individually because of their lack of a dish washer. That was one of the many crappy things about being two young adults living in L.A. with only one being a sole provider. There were a lot of things they were lacking.

The studio apartment they rented was small, but that was mainly because it wasn't a studio apartment at all. It was a 1 bedroom with an itty-bitty room branching off from the combined Kitchen, Dining, and living area. The bathroom was the only other branch which was right next to the bedroom that they had. So in reality, it was a 1 bedroom, but the two boys considered it a studio just cause they wanted too. It followed more of a studio's set up and looked more that way. The master bedroom looked more or less like a closet.

It was small, but the two boys made do and put two, twin beds inside it opposite each other with a small night stand separating the two from full on collision. Most of the time though, they ended up sleeping together on the pull-out couch in the main living area.

Their actual Closet space, consisting of an old gun cabinet they had gotten from a pawn shop and a bureau that the old cat lady next door had given them as a home warming gift, sat a few feet from the kitchen and the TV was at the very center back of the flat.

Logan usually did his best to find the good in all of this though; when he thought of the tiny bed, he reminded himself that they were both shorter people in general. 5'6 and 5'5 respectively, they didn't really have the whole height thing down at all, but they never really complained about it. Personally, Logan enjoyed being short; it meant that he could make people do things for him.

And when he thought about the fact that they slept on the pull-out couch with the two other girls all the time, he reminded himself how lucky he was to be so close to his family. So many other people missed the opportunity to be so tight with their brother.

When he thought of their tiny table, he was thankful that it meant that Carlos didn't cook that much. His culinary skills weren't the best.

And the reason Logan did his best to remind himself of the bright side was because he wanted to save the angst for another time. For the time he was forced to do things that he didn't want to with men and women he barely knew.

In all honestly, Logan did this to separate his two personalities as best he could. He didn't ever want Carlos to meet Hooker Logan and he didn't ever want Happy Logan to go into his line of work with a smile. Because the anger and the angst and the pain was his own silent revenge against his costumers; his easy submission was a reminder that none of it was real. That it was just sex. And that vengeance was good enough for him.

He didn't do much else besides clean for the rest of his time at home; he watched Jerry Springer for a little while before giving up and turning it to the Disney Channel which he semi-hated, semi-loved. After a three hour Hannah Montana marathon, he officially loathed Miley Cyrus beyond the norm. She could strip on as many Gelato trucks as she wanted, that wasn't something Logan could entirely judge, but if she said 'sweet niblets' one more time, the brunette was sure he was going to lose his mind permanently. He could still Party in the USA with her, but he was going to pull one of her fujia hair extensions out if he ever met her in person.

From four to five, he did his best impression of art and ended up scrapping everything he had and trying to challenge himself with math equations. Feeling like a dork, he grabbed his pair of beaten up Hipster glasses a client gave him and stood in the mirror, reading the dictionary to himself for a solid thirty minutes.

From five to six, he grabbed all the make-up he had – which was an extremely limited supply of almost entirely out viles of eye-liner – and practiced different ways of smudging it to look more like pencil and less like liquid without covering his face in black smear.

From six to eight, he worked out to start preparing for the night, Hooker Logan starting to take over his thoughts again while trying to do one-handed push-ups. After miserably failing, he just did crunches for an hour to try to strengthen his core.

And finally, from eight to nine, he tried on different outfits for the night, trying to find something wearable against the cold outside air. Tonight was not a night inside the 'IT' and no matter how cliché it was, he was going to be standing on a street corner and had no intention of freezing his ass of if he didn't have too. So after a long hour of indecision, he finally pulled the skin tight jeans up he wore all the time up and laced the converse that he had in his section of the tiny closet. The Jacket was a harder decision, but he ended up grabbing the worn, slightly fluffy parka he had gotten from a thrift store a few weeks before and put his cigarettes in one of the green things many holes. Ironically, it had no real pockets.

With that, he got out of the apartment door and ran outside, locking it quickly before rushing to catch the bus and barely getting to his spot he liked by the club. Usually when he hooked out by the club, he could get classier cliental. And by classier, he meant, drunk, stupid frat boys and not creepy, older perverts; he wasn't meaning to offend, but he would turn a costumer down if they looked like they hadn't bathed. Cleanliness was next to godliness after all, wasn't it? Plus, Logan was an Escort and if that's what he was, he called the shots and so he got to be picky.

If only that were the truth.

After three hours of waiting and five cigarettes later, the brunette was starting to genuinely worry that he wasn't going to take anyone home that night. And even though the blonde boy from before was big bucks, that still wasn't enough. That would only cover tuition and would help put him slightly ahead of the rent, but it didn't mean he could take a night off.

Finally, he put another folded, white stick up to his mouth and lit the tip, letting the slow burn wake him up to the fact that he had failed when suddenly, a familiar car drove up. A familiar car with a familiar person in the driver's seat.

"Hey there pretty," the driver started, rolling down the car window, "What do you say for me taking you on a ride."

"You actually need an escort," the brunette questioned back, slightly perplexed by the offer, "Okay."

"Actually, I expect a lot more than just your escorting services madame."

"Wait, do I know you?"

Kendall took the sunglasses off and revealed himself, Logan immediately recognizing the car and the driver upon the obstructions removal.

"Yeah, I hope you do, because I just saw you, you know, YESTERDAY."

Logan's eyes darted from side-to-side, "Look Kendall, what are you doing here."

"I enjoyed last night. A lot."

"We aren't dating and I can fend for myself, so you can leave me alone."

"Have you considered that this is for me; have you considered that I might have taken pleasure in that too."

"You- You did," Logan asked, a blush starting to form.

"Get in the car."

"Were are we going."

"Somewhere nice."

"This is just sex, you know that right."

Kendall put the money in Logan's lap when he first took the seat, "Yeah, I do."

"Then let's go."

The blonde put his foot on the gas pedal, storming away from the corner scene in an instant before pulling into a huge hotel, a grand sight with Valet and Limousines in each direction you turned. Kendall led Logan up to a specific room that he reserved and the rest was done behind closed doors.

Later on, the blonde took the brunette home, dressing him in a different coat and BTR shirt with a new pair of black skinny jeans this time. And yet again Carlos asked and yet again, Logan summed it up to pranks by newer staff.

What neither boy realized was the emotions they were setting up with their constant sexual escapades; every time they did that together, their feelings grew more and more. And it would continue like this for a long time, Logan expecting Kendall every night and no longer standing on the Corner, instead waiting to be picked up inside the club. And the blonde never missed the appointment. But feelingless sex is impossible, and as each boy bottled up their emotions for each other, the figurative explosion grew that much more dangerous. And inevitably, it was going to explode.

**Author's Note: **_**IMPORTANT.**_** I HAVE A DEAL TO MAKE WITH ALL OF YOU. OK, HERE I GO.**** I've never hidden the fact that I'm a review whore. My addiction to reviews is only mirrored by the hooker on your street corner's addiction to crack. I said it. Reviews are my crack. And here's what I want from you. I want to take this story to fifty reviews. **

**IF I GET 50 REVIEWS IN TOTAL ON THIS STORY, I'LL POST SMUTTY CHAPTER EIGHT ON THANKSGIVING. **

**And not around thanksgiving or near, but on thanksgiving day. For anyone not in America, that would be Thursday of next week I think. I'm a bad American; I don't exactly know. And it sounds like a lot, but it really means like ****14**** reviews in all on this very chapter. Well, any of them, but I'd prefer this one. So that's what I'd like as a thanksgiving gift from you wonderful people and if I actually got it, it would make me so happy. **

**Anywho, so everyone post a review, anonymous of not, and if you can't think of anything to say, at least say, ****"GIVE ME MY SMUTTY KOGAN THANKSGIVING SPECIAL."**** Just say it. And if I actually get the 14 or more that I'm asking for, I'll do a mega dedication to everyone that does it. If I don't, I may put this story on break for a little while. SO PLEASE FUFILL MY REVIEW SLUTTINESS. You don't even have to have an account, just post it. It's totally possibly. I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER AND EVER FOR IT. **

**P.S. – To all of you that review on a regular basis anyway, know that I love you like you can't even know. Thanks. **

**So please, please, please, everyone whose story alerted or just read in general, review. Just one from each of you. It would make my month if I got that show of support and love from you all. You have no idea. Luv Ya. XoXo.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: SMUT! SMUT! SMUT! SMUT! SMUT! SMUT! Just so you know, SMUT!**

It had been four months since that original night.

And nothing had changed except for position and place.

To Logan, Kendall was just another costumer who had becomes some-what of a Regular; he refused to think about the teen as anything else, even if he knew that that was a lie. He would just repress those feelings like usual. It would just mean more cigarette burns, but this boy meant nothing to him. Nothing but good cash.

But to Kendall, Logan was, god, Logan was something he couldn't exactly categorize; he just, he couldn't even begin to sort his feelings because he knew if he did, it wouldn't end well. Logan was everything he could possibly want in a person and more and he honestly didn't give six damns that he was so incredibly beautiful. That was just a great bonus. He was …. It was just all so much. And thinking about it made his heart hurt even more because it wasn't real. And it might never be.

But all that bottling up was going to force it all out at one point. And it turned out to be a specific Friday night, four months after that meeting at the 'IT,' that that inevitable explosion happened.

Kendall pushed Logan against the wall as soon as they got in the hotel suite that he had officially bought, feeling up his thigh as he planted rows of kisses up the brunette's neck. At first, the blonde kinda worried that the shorter teen would reject this as he had with all the prier kisses, but for some reason this was different. Maybe it was the heat.

"God, you're so fuckin hot," Kendall moaned into the crook of Logan's neck, "I just want to, I-,"

"That's what I'm here for," the brunette replied, his eyes fluttering while his teeth dug trenches into his bottom lip, "I'll do whatever you want."

"Is that right?" the blonde sarcastically questioned, knowing all too well that he was paying Big Time for this session. Like all the rest.

"For a thousand an hour, anything you want is, 'right,'" Logan stated, still looking awe-struck from the situation unfolding around him.

"What if I was some kind of freak," the taller teen asked, suddenly interested in the other boys words, "and I was like, into shit that you were morally against."

"This isn't exactly a 'Morals' job now is it," the brunette responded, not sure where this was going at all.

"I- I guess not," Kendall breathed out, dropping his hand from stroking the brunette's thigh and instead leaning back a little at his recent revelation. What he didn't realize was how much he was letting his guard down; for some strange reason, he was kind of hurt. He was hurt that this hooker who he paid had sex with other people. He was wounded that this person that he was beginning to have feelings for was doing things with other men. He was in the absolute purest pain at the thought of the brunette ever having to do things that he didn't want to do. For some reason, he simply hated the idea of Logan having sex. Because it meant that this wasn't real. Another of the millions of reminders.

"Look, if it really freaks you out that much, I'm honestly not the Escort most costumers go too for that," Logan said carefully, slightly frightened at the hurt the blonde displayed the moment before, "I'm just the hooker most people go too to get off. That's it. The strangest thing I've done is, well…"

"What," Kendall looked up, his features changing from the hurt to curiosity while the brunette and him went to go sit themselves on the bed, the heat of the moment inevitably lost.

"Um … well …. Honestly the strangest thing I ever had to do was wear this one woman's 5 inch, studded heels while we did it," the brunette said with a smile, "she kept her heel's on too. Needless to say, it was bizarre."

"That's actually really funny," the blonde replied, lightly chuckling, "I can't believe you never told me that before."

"The time never really felt right; how do you work into a conversation a woman's shoe fetish," Logan answered, "It's not exactly the best starter piece."

"Wait, you have female clientele," Kendall questioned further, not ready for the inevitable end to the night.

"You sure do have a lot of questions tonight."

"Yeah, well, it's ….. I'm paying you for this, and I'm charming and sexy and well, just tell me."

"Fine, I get a lot of straight women with a gay boy fantasy; you know, the girls who want to think they can turn a gay, or their just that one girl, and then want to cuddle after sex and lay there for a while and talk about it."

"We laid there and talked about it after our first time."

"Uh-ha, cause I enjoy doing that,"

"Then you're ga-,"

"No, I'm not; I'm not that. It's just, look, can we talk about this another time,"

"Sorry, I guess I – I realize that that's a difficult topic."

"By the way," Logan started, changing the subject as fast as he could, "Great Argument Mr. Asshole, you obviously were on your high school debate team."

"I was."

"Then I either really insulted you or you have hilarious memories of High School Hijinks."

"Thanks for the word choice Scooby Doo, but High School was the worst time of my life, so I tend not to ever want to relive those memories."

"I – I'm sorry, I didn't, it-,"

"It's fine, you're just, you're just a hooker," the blonde spat out, the memories bringing back all the bitterness, "I really don't mean anything to you at all."

"Well, yes you do."

"What would that be."

"You," Logan redug the white walls into his bottom lip, "look, you do a lot for me and I actually do care; I don't want to hurt someone who takes care of me."

"Yeah, I guess I do take care of you don't I," the blonde said, shaking his head in agreement with himself, "I probably do a lot for you."

"You have no idea,"

"So that means you have to do what-ever I say," Kendall finally responded, "Every single thing?"

"That's kind of the point of you, you know, paying me."

"Then I want this," the taller boy grabbed Logan by the back of the head and forced him forward into his own lips, but immediately he felt the smaller boy start to push him away. And then he felt his zipper roll down and he knew it was all over. Their lips immediately broke and in the next instant, the brunette's hands were playing with the blonde's jeans, tugging on the metallic restraints. Logan had found a way around kissing again. He was putting his lips to other uses.

Kendall felt Logan pull his jeans down slowly until he felt the thick material hit the floor; the next second, the snap of his boxer strap resounded through the apartment and they were on the floor as well. And that was it. It was over. Logan had yet again found a way to avoid that one thing that was so sensitive to him; that one thing that seemed so precious. And Kendall simply no long had the will to fight that at the moment; plus, a little pleasure wouldn't hurt. Especially the pleasure that Logan could provide. Logan had a tendency to be very good with his lips. And Tongue. And Hands. And Ass. And …. He felt the shorter teen grip his cock.

Kendall let himself lean back a little and got comfortable as he felt the brunette first touch his member; he gripped Kendall before lowering his mouth to it slowly. Then carefully, he opened up and took the head in, tasting it like it was his first time. Kendall could feel the shorter boy's tongue caress the very tip before Logan came back up, a slight smile glinting across his face before heading back down. And he took it deeper this time, getting a little farther past the head. And then he went just a little farther and a little farther, his lips warm and wet, creating a wet heat that relightened the mood from before. Teeny tiny bit by teeny tiny bit, Logan took it deeper, smiling into each length as he felt it go past his lips and farther down his throat. At one point, he started gagging a little, but he simply adjusted himself and went back to work on it, sucking away like it was a job.

Because it was.

Yet again, Kendall had forgotten that simple fact of it all; he had forgotten that the reason the brunette was so incredible at this was because he probably had a lot more practice than he'd like to think about. And why should he, why should he think about any of this when he was in this state of euphoria. But fuck it; it just wouldn't leave his damn head. He could feel it all and to any other person, it would have been amazing; who honestly preferred kissing to blow jobs.

Kendall did. No, no he didn't because he was Kendall Knight, World famous Singing Sensation, who was known for his voice just as much as for his promiscuity. It was a well known fact that he had a minor sex addiction; it was about the only thing he let the paparazzi catch onto. But he only did that because of other things. Because he found that sex and alcohol were the only things keeping the new Kendall going. They were the only thing keeping the old Kendall dead. And yet the more he was with this new boy, he found that his old self was slowly rising. And he hated it.

*Suck*

He hated the fact that he hated that he was being himself because he had worked exceptionally hard to kill himself in his new self. And he hated that it made him even think of things like that because it absolutely made no sense at all. And he hated the feelings of confusion the boy caused in him. But, he wanted nothing more than the boy's presence. That's why he went along with the 'thousand a night' scam and that's why he put up with all his weird idiosyncrasies and ticks. It's why he caught himself trying to pick up more vocabulary to impress the boy and that's why he was cleaning up his act. He was the reason that Kendall went onstage sober for the first time in a year.

*Suck**Gag*

This boy was ruining the perfectly delusional day dream he had about what his life was. And he hated that he could ever hate that.

*Suck* *Gag* *Suck*

Logan took another length down and still was only a little bit farther past the middle when he finally went up for air, deciding that the coast was clear from the kiss incident. It was the reason he'd given the short blow-job; he had no intention of talking about before that was for damn sure. Still, he couldn't give his reasons for that away, or Kendall would know his secret. That the reason he would get random bursts of sex drive was out of fear; fear of the truth. NO! No, this wasn't the truth because he couldn't love a client. Especially not a male client. Especially not a famous, male, client. Especially not a incredibly handsome, famous, male client. No, he couldn't love a client and by that reasoning, this was not love. Just misunderstood information and as the brunette thought about it more, he commended himself.

He was doing what was right by Kendall; he wasn't leading the boy on and he wasn't lying to him. This was not and never could be love. You can't love your oppressor and to some extent, if you looked at it from the right point of view, that was what the blonde was.

So instead of dealing with his emotions like a normal person, as Logan got more confused, he started to get more sexually frustrated. Immediately, he took Kendall's dick and downed it all the way all at once, choking on the length, but still not stopping. The blonde's eyes blew up when he first felt his whole member be enveloped by the other boy and he screeched a little, the heat from before almost coming like steam now. And like some weird, super sex machine, Logan was working with a new ferocity on this latest undertaking of his. He was taking it longer and longer, deeper and deeper down himself, his light grasp from before becoming a firm and slightly threatening grip as he pulled it forward while he went down. Kendall could swear that his lips were going to get a burn if he didn't slow down, but the feeling was so intensely amazing that he couldn't even speak. He could only moan out simple, 'holy fuck', and, 'right fucking there,' while he was being increasingly jerked.

And so it continued, Logan taking it all the way while on his knees, Kendall leaning back on the bed and moaning, enjoying every second. And every second, Logan went up and down, taking his tongue up the invasive tool in his mouth and tracing the way, tasting every part of skin with intensity before he would reach the tip. He moved his lips in perfect tune, as if singing a soft song, adjusting to each new stretch of Kendall's manhood. He continued with just as much ferocity as before, Kendall's fingers gripping and grasping at hair while Logan continued his work.

Logan just, he couldn't stop because if he stopped he'd think and if he thought he'd talk and if he talked, he might be honest and that would be dangerous. Because he did not have feelings for Kendall Knight and that was all. This was just sex. Intense, possible dangerous sex, but sex all the same and he had no intention of fucking that up. So he was doing his best to keep his mind off of his mind and lose himself to this and that was easy to do with the blonde. But he also had to remind himself that it was not because he had feelings for the blonde, but because the blonde had rather different equipment and this was the chance to learn how to use it. That was what it was. This was a case study, not an expression of feelings.

After a long time, Logan finally slowed down, but it was clear to no end that he had every intention of continuing the escapade at hand and immediately, he brought his face up to Kendall's to talk.

"Now," Logan purred out, licking his lips while starring into the emerald eyes across from him.

"Where," Kendall questioned, himself still recovering from the blow job.

"Now," he repeated, whining a little this time, "Please ….. Just ….. Now!"

Without a second word, the blonde picked Logan up, spun him, and pushed him forward, forcing him against the wall before coming up behind him and kissing his neck like before, except from behind this time. Logan reached behind himself, gripping at Kendall's back while the blonde pushed him further against the wall, his hungry lips nibbling at his neck. But the brunette could feel Kendall's cock against himself and he no longer wanted to wait; he didn't want to waist times on things that he didn't want in the first place.

"Fuck. Me," Logan finally ordered, tired of the romanticism in what could be an otherwise really hot moment.

"But this is so…"

"Fuck Me or I Will Fuck You, But Someone is Going to Get Fucking Fucked," Logan responded quickly, his quick breathing making his fast words seem even harsher.

"Oh, so you wanna play rough do you," Kendall finally replied, the smirk in his voice beyond evident at this point, "You wanna play dirty."

"I want to play … with you," Logan moaned out.

"You mean like this," Kendall said, pushing his cock closer to Logan's entrance, "You mean hard."

"I mean, why are playing with me?"

"I thought I paid for you to be able to play with,"

"Okay, I gue-,"

"And since I'm shelling out a couple grand, I get to do what I want,"

"All except for kis-,"

"Which means that every demand I make, you will be forced to carry out no matter what, right?"

"Possibly,"

"Then for starters, give these the same treatment you did my….," Kendall motioned with his eyes downward.

"You mean, no, What about lubricant, what about con-,"

Kendall tore the small, square package open and rolled the thing on his still moist member quickly.

"Check,"

"Fine," the brunette spat out, but honestly, that was just for show; Kendall was finally playing along. Kendall was finally giving in and giving up and letting himself go. And that's maybe what all of this symbolized. Good. So at least the confusion could stop.

Immediately, Logan took the three Finger's Kendall was holding out into his mouth and slowly sucked, lubricating each one as best he could without biting. That was a little harder than expected. Mainly because Kendall kept moaning and rearranging them, but there were plenty of aspects. Maybe Logan was just impatient to get fucked. Who fucking knew at this point in the game?

After a few minutes of that, the blonde unexpectedly pulled them out, just while remembering the last thing hindering himself from fully having Logan. The damn booty shorts. It was always the damn booty shorts. He knew he should have had patients and he knew he shouldn't have been so hasty, but in the heat of the moment while he was trying to tear them off with one hand, he ripped them down the seam, each split side falling down the brunette's legs before hitting the ground in a strange straight-up-ugly grace. Because they were kinda ugly. Who wears teal and gold hot pants? Yet on Logan, they were really attractive. And now they were destroyed. And neither honestly gave a shit. They just wanted release.

Quickly, Logan stepped out of the shredded garment and kicked it aside, having no concern in the world for it before repressing himself up against the wall. He was going to do this and it didn't matter what happened at this point. There were ways beyond the point of no turning back. In their eyes, the point of turning back no longer existed.

Kendall giggled a little when he first heard Logan screech as he put the first finger near his entrance; for a hooker, he was surprisingly strange about sex. Each time seemed like his first. Even when he seemed skilled, he seemed simultaneously naïve on it all. And he was really tight.

Slowly, he pushed it in and immediately, the brunette threw himself against the wall and gripped the surface for dear life. The taller teen grinned a little before inserting the next one, his bottom squeezing tighter against the intruders. Between Logan's purring out of the word 'fuck' and the way his eyes were fluttering, Kendall started to get worried about freaking out right now, but he kept calm and carefully started to scissor.

Logan jumped a little at that, but the blonde grabbed his hip with his other hand and kept him in place before putting in the third one and after one small stretch, he was sure he was ready. This time quickly, he withdrew his digits from the smaller boy and replaced them with a much more intimate organ.

He was careful at first, pushing forward slowly into the smaller boy, and as best he could, he was being gentle with him. He was always being Gentle with the brunette; he thought that maybe it could make the experience just a tiny bit more enjoyable for him. For it all not to feel so intrusive and forceful. And he pushed forward lightly; keeping his breathing steady while he positioned himself to move in without hurting the other boy. He was being careful and slow, working in just half way before Logan lost it.

The Brunette couldn't understand why Kendall always acted like this; he acted like Logan was some kind of fragile, porcelain doll during sex and it annoyed the crap out of him. Sure, Logan would act coy. But that was because it was the only thing keeping his sanity intact; it was the only thing demonizing the buyer more. Because he always hated his buyer, it was just nature. And of course, Kendall had decided to do his best to throw a quirk in that; he had to be gentle and sweet and romantic and smug and, and ….. he had to try to treat Logan like an equal. And the brunette knew he wasn't. But the one joy he would get out of his job was sex and any other day, he would put up with soft, caring fucking, but not today. Today, he needed it hard; he needed it hard and real and heavy. He wanted to feel the hot air against the back of his neck. He was desperate for those harsh words screeched into his back while the point of sexual oblivion seemed to occur. And that's why he lost himself for a minute.

The blonde was taking one light thrust forward when out of nowhere, Logan grinded down on him, taking it in all the way quickly. The Brunette simply couldn't wait and immediately he slammed himself backwards, pulling Kendall in almost all the way. The Blonde didn't know how to respond at first, but he involuntarily bucked forward into Logan, and the consequences following were amazing.

Kendall had already hit Logan's prostate. He had pretty much just rocked his whole fucking world with one simple jab to it. And then Kendall pulled out a little and went back in, rehitting the spot and sending spasms throughout Logan's body. This was …. This was incredible. It was like seeing Rainbows and glitter falling from the sky it felt so good.

The taller teen started to buck forward with a little more intensity than the slow pace he had set from before; each time he reinserted himself, he'd get a little faster. But he needed more. He needed more to get his mind off of the moment. He needed more to focus his whole world on that moaning brunette in front of him who was rocking with each thrust.

Logan could barely breath, it was so amazing; he felt like every wall was going to crash in on him and he didn't honestly care anymore. Nothing fucking mattered in that moment but the pace of the blonde's continuous thrusts, landing hard straight into Logan's prostate. It was slowly killing him from the inside in the most incredible way possible.

But neither was done; neither of the two boys was even close to being done. Neither was close to that point of pure release. No, this was just all too enjoyable for both of them. And neither could decide what it was about it all.

Kendall couldn't keep his mind off of the beautiful boy in front of him; he couldn't stop thinking about the way he would twist and moan to the beat. The way his sweet nothings could range from 'incredible,' to 'fuck me till I scream.' It was bizarre. He was this innocent looking teen boy who would one second be completely vulnerable and the next would be in this pseudo-sexual attack mode. It all enamored the blonde; if anything, it turned him on so much more. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to even be in that position. There was only one thing more he wanted more and …. It was impossible though. And that frustrated him beyond words. So that was partially the reason for him pumping forward with such ferocity at the moment. Him roughly sliding in-and-out of the boy in front of him who was currently pressed against the wall.

Logan was … he was …. He was just in the purest state of bliss and euphoria that existed at the moment and he didn't care that it hurt. The pain made it that much better for him. Because for the first time in a long time, he was actually enjoying sex. He was enjoying being slammed against a wall repeatedly while tight arms wrapped around him. Because so often he would never get to enjoy this, he would never be able to derive the pleasures that his costumers got from his services. Never until he met Kendall Knight. Kendall Knight who was a Pop-Super Star Icon. Kendall Knight who obviously bleached his hair to some extent. Kendall Knight who had eyebrows like a Beast. Kendall Knight who was fucking hung like no white boy before. His Kendall fucking Knight and when he was with Kendall, he was getting fucked by Mr. Knight. And he Loved it. But he didn't love the boy and that was key; he could enjoy the sex while thinking the person was deplorable. It was possible. Because who could possibly love the blonde, hung, iconically sexy beast who was pushing in and out of him?

The taller boy continued pumping in and out, hitting his target dead on in the smaller boy who was moaning with pleasure. And he couldn't possible stop. He'd the brunette's prostate, pull out a little and then slam forward, almost exploding from the tightness squeezing his cock.

He could feel Logan start to buckle from it all under him, but he just couldn't pause now, he needed the release that the short teen offered. And in all honestly, Logan wanted it too.

Logan didn't want anyone to stop the moment; it didn't matter if Kendall came while moaning out 'I love you,' because no matter what, he was going to finish. They were both going to finish. He was going to have his moment and it didn't matter what it took to get there.

"God," Kendall moaned out while trusting forwards into the other, "You're so fu-fuckin tight."

"I-I'd ha-ha-hope," his snark evident in his voice, even though he could barely breathe in the first place.

"I just ….." the blonde couldn't even begin to think at the moment, "You're sa-so fuckin hot."

Kendall continued his press forward, forcing the other teen to cry out with every stab to his prostate, but this time, he started to lightly press kisses up his spine. Slowly, he planted each one individually while keeping his pace up, their dance in the dark not ending for a moment. Still, this side of sensualness was nice. It made up for the heat. And for some reason, Logan didn't object this time.

Logan was losing himself fast, faster than usual, and when he felt the Blonde plant those long columns of pecks up his neck, he didn't care. He was still on the receiving end of the pleasure and Kendall was still thrusting himself in and out. He was keeping up; if he wanted to kiss him while doing it, Logan didn't fucking care at this point. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered but the blonde behind him.

But that all changed in an instant; in a passionate moment of heat, Kendall's rows of raspberries finally reached Logan's neck and all of the sudden, they led to Logan's pout. Immediately, the blonde caught the other boy in a heated kiss, their lips pressed hard against each other.

And for the first time in their history, Logan wasn't fighting it; he was allowing it to happen. As soon as their mouths collided, he could feel the taller teen poke his tongue in, exploring this seemingly foreign area. And the brunette started to smile into the kiss, enjoying Kendall's extreme insecurity in it all. He didn't even mind the fact that rhythm from before had slowed to a more realistic pace; he didn't give a second thought to the fact that Kendall's arms were starting to squeeze him tighter.

After a while, he finally decided to nudge back and the wet heat of their tongues colliding sent him into a frenzy of lust. He quickly started to force himself forward, trying his very best to get himself into the blonde's own mouth. He wanted to taste the other boy too. He wanted to absorb that little piece of him as well. As their tongues started to intertwine and mingle more, he continued to think about it. He continued to think about the sweetness of it. The intimacy of the soft moment they were sharing. The slowness of it. The Romance in it all …. And right upon that thought entering his head, reality came crashing down on him.

"Stop," he screeched out with wide eyes, breaking their lips apart as fast as he could, "I-I-na-nev-never, da-da-don't ever do tha-that aga-ain."

"I'm sorry," the blonde replied honestly, still moving slower and slower.

"Do your fa-fucking job and just scra-screw me okay," Logan semi-cried out, anger interwoven in every word he spoke, "Sta-stop being such a fa-fuck up."

He didn't mean to say it, but it came out and the words burned Kendall like red hot knives because they reminded him of something else. They reminded him of one of the most painful moments in his life. And it hurt like fucking hell.

The brunette didn't mean the words to sting so bad, but he was pissed; he was beyond pissed. He was at a new level of angry because he had made it clear that he did not want that. He didn't want romance and he didn't want intimacy; he wanted lust and passion and pure amounts of fuck that would make a Jenna Jameson cry. But upon seeing his partners face, he realized his cold words would have some kind of punishment and the bizarre thing was, he wasn't sure if he was against it.

Kendall let a harsh breath out before almost completely stopping and bending down into the brunette's ear, "So I'm a fuck up," he stated, his voice cold and precise.

"I-I didn't mean it like that I was – I was just frustrated and-,"

"And all you want is to get fucking fucked, right,"

"That's kinda what you pay me for," Logan added, hoping by all his lucky stars that the light humor might actually delight Kendall.

"Ah, you and you're fucking smart ass fucking mouth," Kendall purred out, slowly becoming more imposing by the second, "Always wanting to just get fucked."

In that moment, Kendall came up and pulled out almost all the way before slamming forward, forcing the other teen to grip the wall in front of him for security.

"You just want a nice, hard screw right," the blonde said, looming over the hooker now more than ever, "You want me to hurt you. You don't want to be able to walk anymore."

"What-ever you say," Logan whimpered out, starting to get frightened by the tense air that filled the room currently.

"You want this," the taller teen replied, pulling out and slamming in again, hitting Logan's prostate like an angry missile.

"I – I – please just … I need to finish … I need to … please," the smaller boy pleaded and it just enraged Kendall all the more. Why? Why did this always have to be all about sex. Why couldn't he give in and for one moment, one night, let this be a little more. It drove Kendall out of his mind.

And this anger provoked something in himself that he didn't exactly know existed; it brought something to life in him he didn't know was ever there. It brought up the purest amounts of lust in him that he had ever known. Pure, Angry, Sexual lust. And in that moment, he accidently unleashed it.

"Then fucking have it," Kendall growled out and immediately, slammed in again, forcing Logan to hit the wall in a flurry, but not before the brunette caught himself. And he moaned out in satisfaction. How was this pain getting him to moan like this? And it upset Kendall more.

So he did it again, pulling out and forcing in faster, making his sharp jabs force yelps out of the smaller boy who was currently being pushed into the white surface in front of him.

Kendall thrusted forward again and again, some-what abusing the brunette while continuing his conquest. He was no longer in control of his movements. That lust had over taken his body and all he could do was growl with the motion, taking as much from it as he could.

He moved faster and faster, quicker and quicker, plummeting them both into a different kind of sexual chaos that neither had experienced in either of their combined life times. And one of those life times was one of a prostitute. Someone who had sex on a daily, so the fact that this was so mind fuckingly fantastic was a bit of a mind fuck in itself.

Kendall wrapped his arms around Logan, gripping him tight and upright while continuing his bucks forward, never stopping even for breath. He buried his face in the crook of Logan's neck and immediately, so as to not let the kissing start again, started to nibble on the skin lightly, letting some of the aggression he was feeling die away with each second. But it didn't mean the wrecking had stopped.

Logan was absolutely sure that the blonde had every intention of just completely demolishing his prostate and he just didn't give a damn anymore. This was just all so much that it didn't matter.

But they were both close, really close, and Kendall knew that he wasn't going to be able to handle himself and in his right mind, this was the time to pull out and finish another way. Cum in his mouth or on his chest or something, but not _in_ him. And yet it seemed perfect. This boy wanted to be screwed so fucking bad, why not let him get the fruits of his labor.

With one last pull out, Kendall almost had his dick's head out of the entrance before finally thrusting upward, slamming forward into Logan with all his force and as soon as he felt the tight, surprised squeeze, the feeling of release pervaded throughout his entire body. With a final spasm forward, he felt himself finally empty into the brunette and relief hit him. The crushing lust had finally left his system.

And then he felt the brunette start to paw for his own hand.

Logan could feel every single one of Kendall's thrusts and every time, a new feeling of euphoria would wipe over him, but he started to get fearful when he felt almost nothing. Where was that slight pain from where the blonde was literally inside of him? He started to get anxious; what if the taller boy was doing this as payback for his cruel words? What if he had decided to take him to the brink and just leave him there? That couldn't be fair, but then again, what part of any of this was.

The brunette's thoughts started to get muddled when all of the sudden, he felt the pain again, this time sharp and he felt the blonde stab forward, a mind bending jab into his prostate. He could swear that he heard church bells ring in that moment of pure ecstasy and in the next second, he could feel the spasm from inside himself. The shaky indicator that Kendall had just exploded with passion.

And Logan couldn't help himself. The feeling of the moment took over and he grabbed Kendall's hand, forcing it to grip his own cock and after a few jerks, he came as well. He spasmed quickly into the blonde's tightly whound hand and the feeling of release washed over him like the purest form of joy. It was the most incredible orgasm he'd ever had in his entire life. It was clear and incredible and sexy and every single good thought that would enter the shorter boy's thought process.

Slowly, the tallest one pulled out of the boy and hobbled into the bathroom, turning the sink knob to wash off the cum that was all over his hand. As soon as he was sure he'd cleaned the goo off, he went to work on himself, slipping the filled condom off and dropping it into the trash can nearby. After examining himself in the mirror for a moment, he finally took a step outside and reality started to come back.

He looked at the brunette who was lying in bed and he started to realize what he'd just done; he had just done the one thing he swore to never do. He had just fucked up the only promise he'd made to himself about this. He swore to never hurt the other boy and from the pale look on his face to the wobble to his legs, he could tell that the boy was in some form of pain. He had promised to never push.

And that threw Kendall into an abyss of torture himself; because he had a dark secret about the boy.

"Hey K-dog," Logan said with a smile, patting the spot in the bed next to him, "why don't you get some rest."

"Don't you need to get home soon?" Kendall questioned, still in his slight haze of sex and guilt from before.

"Screw home," the brunette stated with a yawn, "I need sleep. You wore me out Kendall."

"I – I did?" the taller one questioned, not sure how to respond.

"Um, you know you're way around using that, um, you know," Logan swallowed hard, "you're disco stick."

"I just," he was desperately grasping at words, "I didn't know you got so much out of it?"

"You have no idea," the shorter teen said with a smile, flashing his teeth, "it makes every ounce of pain worth it."

"I put you in pain?"

"You have no idea, but especially tonight; I loved the way you were so forcefully. It was …. Well, it was. So incredible. It was so hot the way you took control and it doesn't even matter that it hurt because it was so worth it."

"Oh," Kendall started to look over himself with disgust, realizing what Logan had just said little bit by little bit, "I'm- I'm sorry," he finally choked out.

"Why the heck should you be sorry?"

"Because – Because," Kendall bit down into his lip before deciding to finish his confession honestly, "because I care about you Logan. Happy. I fucking care about you and I don't like thinking about you hurt because every time I think you're hurt, I feel a little piece of myself get ripped in half. And it doesn't matter that it's pain from fucking because I shouldn't have lost myself like that and I did. I should have just kept calm and been gentler and you'd never feel forced. And it doesn't matter that it was sexy because in the end, you were dragged into this and every time we have sex it's forced and I was doing my damned best to not making it feel that way and now look at me. I've become exactly that. It makes me absolutely sick because I have to think about the fact that I hurt you and it eats me to my core that I'm the one who could inflict any pain on you because I like you. Alot. Does this make you feel better. To know that I care this fucking much about you?"

Logan's jaw dropped when he heard the confession and all of the sudden, all his greatest fears were realized. Quickly, he jumped out of bed, made his best attempt to walk normally, pulled on the pair of shorts Kendall had brought for him and grabbed his phone before running out of the door. He left his shoes, his cash, his dignity. He left it all. Everything behind in that apartment.

Because he didn't care about the blonde boy. It was impossible. He couldn't care about the one person who was slowly bringing him back to life. Never.

**Author's Note: *****Warning* Super Long Author's Note. Scroll down if you just want to see your name. ****So, um …. Anyone else notice that we're at 80 reviews on this story!**

**I FUCKING LOVE YOU GUYS. Like no joke, I LOVE YOU GUYS SO FUCKING MUCH. **

**I'm not kidding, you all mean the world to me and every review struck my heart in a different way and I just want you to all know how much I love you. I do love to write, but I think as a community of writers, we all know how hard it is to do that sometimes. Only through your continual support and love have I held strong even when I wanted to give up. For that, I will forever be indebted to you. I love you all so much for that. I cried so hard when I saw the email in my inbox on Friday that I had sixteen by midnight and on Sunday, I had thirty. I don't think I've ever felt that kind of love before. I'm being serious. You all mean so much to me and the way you've come to adopt me into the community and love me is so absolutely special. Everyone of you is my best friend in some way or another; I may know some of you more than others – shadowcaller, allaboardthekoganship, ieeer – but I love every single one of you in an indivual way. Thank You. I love you. So, yeah, I need to wrap this up because I'm sure you all are so tired of hearing my stupid ass babble on; most of you probably have turkey waiting and everyone else has life going on. **

**Thank You. Thank You for fifty reviews and thank you for coming through for me and thank you for your support and thank you for your love and thank you for everything. You mean the world to me. Thank you too **_**Ieeerr**_**(**who I love to death and talk with all the time on twitter and has the sweetest one shots in the world**), **_**Rhett9**_** (**you're comment made me blush so hard, thank you), _**Sammy1234**_ (I like your numbers, they remind me of something. LOL**), **_**rosaxD114**_** (**here it is, hope you liked it**), **_**ShadowCaller**_** (**my very best friend in this WHOLE WIDE WORLD and the sweetest guy you will ever meet; god, I fucking love him. BFF. :**), **_**Carphanie**_** (**We Did It! Thank you**), **_**btr **_**(**I hope this was a good thanksgiving Kogan treat**), **_**0music0lvr0**_** (**they did end up recognizing some of their feelings, it just ended badly. Oops**), **_**Btr et franais**_** (**thank you, but my gift comes from you all always), _**shogoki17 **_(here you go, I hope this update was good**), **_**MaddyB3 **_**(**Well *blush*, you think I'm awesome? Awe. Anywho, thank you for reviewing at all, means a lot**), **_**mooresomore**_** (**I hope this did make your thanksgiving; btw, sweet niblets did that end badly. XD**) **_**Alfonse**_** (**I just want you to know your review meant a lot a lot to me and thank you for sticking with me even through jarlos and it all in general and I hope this was a great smutty thanksgiving story**), **_**saratastic**_** (**IT IS! And don't worry, shit going to get a lil crazy later on. XP**), **_**Vampire-Goth-Girl**_** (**thank you so much for reading them all; it means a lot. It's support like yours that keeps me going**), **_**AllAboardTheKoganShip/Katie. Again **_**(**My dear Katie, I love you too. Totally fuck auto correct. Foever. Love you gurl.**), **_**swaggin'allday**_** (**I thought it might make people giggle a little. I actually wanted to see what it would look like if people used it. XP**), **_**BigTimeStarKid-1**_** (**Well then as you have asked, you will receive. Hope it didn't totally suck **), **_**peaceandlove84**_** (**Thank you so much for that, it really made me smile, and I'm happy the suspense didn't kill you because I would have missed you a lot**), **_**MyBabyKendizzle**_** (**I think Logan makes an interesting hooker, don't you. Brains and booty. Wait, I meant beauty, but apparently, he got some booty to if you know that I mean. LOL**), **_**TheClaire24**_** (**Sorry! Maybe this one was better? Thank you for sticking through it with me; then again, you're amazing, you stuck with me through LiM, you'll stick with me through this. Thank you so much especially; Love You!**), **_**ishop67**_** (**God, I missed you to death! Thank you, We all miss you, and you're Awesome! Love You as well**), **_**anon**_**(**I HOPE YOU LIKED YOUR SMUTTY THANKSGIVING SPECIAL. XD**), **_**Lui-56**_** (**I hope you liked it; you've stuck with me through a lot too. Love you also. PS - this girl is dedicated. She immediately alerted me when I got my 50. And then she left a second review. That's dedication. Love it. She's absolutely amazing FOREVER!**), **_**kogan3**_** (**I HOPE THIS WAS A GOOD, SMUTTY THANKSGIVING FOR YOU! AND THANKS FOR THE REVIEW[s] MY LOVELY**), **_**IceRush**_** (**I want to start by saying, thank you as well for sticking with me, and also I HOPE THE SMUT WAS SOMEWHAT ENJOYABLE FOR YOU!),**_ BreakFree_ (**It's okay; take your time. LOVE. YOU. :**), **_**Tiger257 **_**(**Hopefully, this was a good smut chapter and trust me, love is gonna come up, just give it some time. ;),_**Azn-Spacers**_** (**It is pretty cute, but give me time on this; I've done a lot of this for a reason. Keep this in mind with Carlos. Ignorance is Bliss. I'm an intentional person. James Is a Whore. Carlos Is Awesome.**), LastBreath**_**-x**_** (**Here it is and hope it's good; BTW, asked the story and it loves you too. :**), **_**Victoria **_**(**Here It is, I hope you enjoyed the shit out of it), Sarah (It Is Here, I hope it made you wetter than Sea World on Sunday**), **_**Isabelle**_** (**Is It Here? Oh yeah, it is. Enjoy. Dirty Thought, Dirty Thoughts**), **_**1445214 **_**(**the numbers are really random, but I hope you enjoyed it. You and you're beautiful, fantastical numbers. Love You. Bitch!**), **_**11.22.11**_** (**OMG, I fucking love this username. I didn't realize what it was at first. You deserve this dedication for creativity. I fucking love you for that!**), **_**Lisa**_** (**Well Lisa my dear, I hope thoueth hath enjoyeth the gayeth sexeth in thiseth chaptereth),_**Kogan**_** (**I feel like I've dedicated to you already, still, a deals a deal. Good I hope it was for you, or failed I have**), **_**Blank**_( I hope this was as good for you as Beyonce is good for the Weave industry)**, **_**Kenzie**_(Kenzie, Kendall; you may be perfect for him if he's not gay; besides the point; I hope you enjoyed this like a drag queen enjoys the mac cosmets counter)**, **_**Jaze**_(has anyone told you you're sweet; you just want to keep reading. Well, I LOVE YOU. It's my best comeback. Love yOu Gurl),_**GF**_(I hope this was as good for you as Sexy is for BTR, so if you couldn't tell, that's a lot. love you gurl!). **Lastly, I wanted to thank a reviewer who didn't do it this time, but has been so nice about it all and her penname is **_**Peace and Love Forever **_**because she has, like many of you, been there for me through the good and the bad and I've talked to her a little before and she's incredibly kind and humble for having such a mega story and she's really helped me through a lot like all of you. I love all of you guys so fuckin much, you just, it's crazy. You all mean the world to me. So um, I hope you enjoyed my notes back to you and I hope that you liked the chapter. And since this is the end, you know exactly what I'm going to ask. **

**Please, Please, Please review; it's very special to me. And tell me if you like these kinds of dedications, cause I can do them more often. You'll just have to review to let me know though. So please give me your input and thoughts on this all and tell me what you want to see next with this all. You know how much it means to me. I love the fuck out of all of you. No chapter tomorrow, unless theirs like an uproar or this chapter gets 100 reviews by tomorrow afternoon; if it does, it'll be out. If it doesn't, no pressure you all are amazing, and it will be out next friday like usual. **

**PS – HAPPY THANKSGIVING MY SEXY, REVIEW ARTIST BITCHES. I DO REALLY LOVE YOU. Luv Ya. XoXo.**


	9. Chapter 9

Logan didn't turn around or look back; what he needed was to simply escape the setting, not recognize its realness. He could do that later. Later when he began picking up the pieces to himself again. Why the fuck did the blonde do that?

Kendall had given him possibly the most amazing night in the world, hell, in the universe it was so good. Against every odd possible, it actually turned out sexy and hot and mind blowing and every other adjective that wasn't immediately coming to the brunette about what had happened.

For Logan to be the hooker, Kendall was surprisingly good in bed. The shorter teen guessed that maybe all those promiscuity rumors had been true about him because any other normal guy would have been a quickie. In-and-out. They'd pay for an hour and use twelve minutes, but not the Pop star. He paid for an hour and ended up shelling out the money for two.

Yet Logan knew going in, that tonight was different; it was pretty much all in Kendall's ultra intensity that this became obvious. He was extra early to pick him up from the club and even tried to buy him dinner, a rather unusual move because who eats before sex. Sex was not something you specifically need a power snack for. Sex is a sport that sustains itself. Still, Kendall was persistent.

Logan ended up just getting a water to sip at it and the blonde bought a fruit cup, but even that had been strange. Someone behind them in line accidently called him, 'fruity,' just a little too loud under his breath and as soon as the taller teen heard it, the brunette was sure shit was going to go down.

He was already making up excuses when he watched the boy he was with tense up and get angry, but then something happened. Kendall locked eyes with Logan for a minute and a second later, he was better. At the time, he had written it off, but he started to genuinely think about it.

He'd only known his client for about four months, but from the little time he'd been exposed to him, he was sure of a couple of facts; he had a big disco stick, he had a douche baggy sort of charm, and he lost his temper easy. He lost his temper faster than the rev of his thousand dollar car's engine. Yet he had somehow kept calm; now that Logan was thinking about it, he should have seen a freak-out, like what had happened moments earlier, long ago.

He should have seen it the first time the blonde offered to go with the thousand dollar scam; who honestly pays a thousand an hour for a hooker when you have groupies who'd do it for free? And they'd probably do it better. Nope, nope, Logan was pretty secure in his sexual talents; there was no way that groupies could do what he did. But that wasn't the point.

He should have noticed the fact the blonde was so protective, convincing him that picking him up from inside the bar would be better than from the street corner. Logan was a hooker; street corners and hookers go together like Drag Queens and glitter. Like Anorexia and a Hilton; Like Lady Gaga and Gay.

It's one of the inseparable facts of life; Hookers stand on street corners. Its beyond expected at this point and still, Kendall demanded otherwise. He made a big deal about it being safer and easier if he just went into the club and walked out with him from there.

He should have recognized the fact that Kendall had been picking him up _every_ single night for four months now. Out of the hundred-twenty days or so that that was, the blonde maybe missed ten of his 'appointments,' and all of those had to do with Album promotion or some kind of planning meeting. It was never because he was too tired or worn out or not up for sex.

For four months now, the only client the brunette had had was the blonde; he'd missed out on about eight appointments at the 'It' for this teen. But when you were making two thousand a night, what argument was there against that.

Logan, for the first time in their entire apartment history, actually paid for the flat that he and Carlos shared, ahead of time. He was covered for at least five months at this point. And the help that that had done with tuition costs for the Latin boy's college was amazing; he had saved enough to secure his brother two complete more semesters. Whatever he had left he was saving for emergency or head shots for Carlos.

The problem was, for Logan, it was easier to be ignorant to the honest facts of him and his client's relationship; to stay ill informed to it made it easier to ignore later. It made lying to his brother about it so much less complicated. It made lying to himself about it just a little more simple.

Because he did not feel the same way for the blonde and that was it; it was impossible to like a client, so love was absolutely out of the question. Still, he couldn't get Kendall's words out of his head; the blonde actually felt guilty for being rough. The brunette once had a costumer who almost smothered him into a pillow and asked Logan to reimburse him for the price of torn pillow covers afterwards.

No one apologized for rough sex. Yet Kendall did. And it was so sweet. Wait, no it wasn't. It could never be sweet because nothing about this was sweet and he didn't feel things for Kendall and he never could.

In that instant, the shorter teen made a pact with himself; there would be no more seeing the blonde. Ever again. The blonde was off limits to think about or talk about or dream about or … the blonde was just off limits. Period. He was never going home with him again and he would never acknowledge that the quick relationship happened. It would just be another memory to block out, something unsurprisingly easy for him.

Slowly, he opened the door to the apartment and creeped in, spying Carlos sprawled out across the couch bed in the middle of the room in front of the TV. Surprisingly, his two friends weren't there, or if they were, they were somewhere else asleep or doing other things. The brunette couldn't lie, he read a little bit of lesbian off of both of the girls, but he thought their endless flirtation was kinda cute.

Two Lesbians and Gay boy. How typical. He probably had the most rainbow filled family in the whole damn complex; Except for himself of course. Logan quickly reminded himself that he was not gay and did not feel things for the blonde and didn't care that he had the most incredible sex in his life. Because he was not attracted to men. He couldn't be. He wasn't attracted to anyone. Women, Men; it didn't matter. What he did was a job and if he enjoyed it, well, everyone gets their own little things from job and maybe his was just 'getting off' in general. Very easily, that could have been the solution.

Damn. He desperately needed to do something to get him away from all this; these gloomy thoughts were actually starting to get to him. After careful consideration, he pulled a shirt on and then climbed into the couch bed lazily, cuddling up next to his brother while planning his next night. He had enough saved up from his previous escapades to take a break for a day or two and so he made a decision.

The next few nights would be about having fun.

Kendall was still in shock over what had happened; there was no way he had actually admitted that out loud to Logan. He'd sworn to keep that a secret. Forever and Ever Amen. That was to never get out to anyone as long as he lived; it was supposed to be his dirty confession that no one would ever get to hear.

And yet it did; he was there. He was there and he heard it breach the air and yet he still couldn't believe it had happened because it just all seemed surreal. He couldn't believe he'd lost control of himself and he couldn't believe what Logan had said and he couldn't believe he held off this long. He'd wanted to say that from the first hour of knowing the short brunette.

Because to say that the boy left some kind of impression would be a serious understatement; Logan was an amazing testament to what a first impression was. He could have played any personality he wanted and gotten away with it; he could have been the bubbly, vapid airhead. He could have been the slutty, sleazy cum dumpster whore who was into anything. He could have been the overly campy, dragtastic priss prostitute who had a million rules to what the client wanted. Logan was none of those things. His first impression on Kendall was the sincerest of them all; it was him.

The brunette didn't play a part and every time he'd speak, he let that simple fact become apparent to everyone around himself. And the blonde ate it up; he ate it up and enjoyed every bite because every second he spent with the shorter boy, he was continually amazed.

There were so many things you could say after meeting the hooker, but one you couldn't say was that he was a quitter. He was the embodiment of never giving up was. Every other prostitute Kendall had known had given up on life; they'd pretty much lost all their faith in humanity. But not Logan; never Logan. The blonde desperately wanted to find out what he was holding onto, but he would never answer.

Another impression was just one of the basic traits of the shorter boy; he was so secretive. Logan guarded his inner most thoughts with a lock-n-key. He didn't play. Never. And that became very difficult after a while because all Kendall began caring about were his inner thoughts.

The blonde wanted to know what kept him going and what made him do what he did on a daily basis. He wanted to figure out why, for someone so immersed in sex was he so absolutely afraid to acknowledge it like an adult. The childish terms were cute, but it also was a bit bizarre. He was a hooker, he was paid to do this stuff; you'd think saying it would be part of the deal.

Kendall wanted to uncover why kissing was such a sensitive thing for him; it would change his personality completely. He wanted to discover why he was so weird about sexuality; their first meeting together, Logan had accused him of being a homophobe. Now, he couldn't say the word 'gay' without getting choked up. It was weird.

It was surprising to him that Logan could keep such a pure and confusing shroud of Illusion around himself like this. For all he shared and all the wit he could toss around, he left very little out in the open. If he were ever famous, he'd make the tabloids his bitch.

If Logan was famous, he would be shared with the whole world. Then he would need a date. A date to take to movies and premiers and events and Kendall could be that; the blonde could be anything Logan would need. If he were ever famous with Kendall by his side, he would …. Oh, just the thoughts made the butterflies in the blondes stomach ruffle. Dammit, Logan was bringing back that old Kendall again, the one buried so far beneath the surface of himself.

And that forced him to rekill that part of himself again; to remurder it and burry it in his deep coffin of his once, very bright personality. He was Kendall Knight, world famous singer with a thing for the ladies; he was not Kendall Schmidt Knight, the feminine choir/theatre member who was emotional anymore. He had a reputation and he wasn't going to let anyone ruin it. Not even Logan. Not even perfect, beautiful Logan. No.

Yet, he needed something; he needed closure. He needed the satisfying feeling of ending it himself to remind him of who he was; Kendall Knight, player. That's how everyone thought of him, the big man whore. No one ever said it, but he made it apparent to everyone he was around what he wanted and that was on purpose. He wasn't going to let someone else play with his heart like he'd done with so many others before.

Kendall pulled out his phone to call when he remembered an important fact; he didn't have the hooker's god-damn cell number. Fuck. How could be forget about that; that was one of those things that bugged him most. He knew Logan had a cell phone; an old, dilapidated cell phone, but one in existence at least. But the brunette made an effort to not give his number out.

Logan had either called from pay phones or bar phones inside the bustling club, but never a cell number that Kendall could use. Whenever he'd call back, he either got nothing or a scruffy voice yelling at him about prank calls. Damn.

He needed a way to get to Logan without freaking him out to much; the way he was frightened off earlier was still fresh in the blondes mind.

So, with his phone in his hand, he scrolled through his lengthy contact list before finally finding the right number to call.

"Hello," the low voice on the other end gruffly spat out.

"Hey James, I need a favor," Kendall started, deciding to make the phone call brief for fear of talking to his band mate for more than three seconds.

"What the fuck could it be this time," James responded, obviously annoyed.

"Look, I ask very little of your dumb ass, you can do one damn thing for me can't you."

"Tell me what the fuck it is and I'll think about it."

"I need you to go down to that club tomorrow night."

"You're calling me about tomorrow fucking night."

"Yeah, because I don't want you to make plans with your whores,"

"They are not whores,"

"They are play boy bunnies who have to do vaginal tightening exercises; they're whores."

"Look, just tell me what you want so I can go and scr … look, tell me so I can go do my business."

"I need you to go out to the club."

"What fuckin club."

"Disgraceland, the club I go to all the time,"

"That dumbass club; what the hell do you want me to do there, pick up a call girl for you."

"Kinda,"

"Are you being fuckin serious."

"Yeah, I'll explain more later, I just need you to plan on going tomorrow night and picking up a hooker for me."

"Why can't you do this yourself."

"Cause I don't fuckin want to, okay, now do it, or, or, or I tell Sarah about you going on stage with meth last time."

"FINE," James spat out at him before hanging the phone up.

"Yeah, love you too," Kendall responded to the nothingness on the other end.

He pressed the button on the shiny object in his hand before slipping it back in his pocket and stepping into the house. Sure, Logan would know to run away from him, but if James bought him for the night, he would be forced to talk to Kendall. And that's all the blonde needed to be able to express his feelings and end what they had going on.

That's all Kendall needed so he could say that he didn't have feelings for him and he was simply just a nice trick that lasted. Because those feelings from hours before were a lie; he didn't care about Logan Mitchell in the slightest. He didn't worry about him getting home safely and he didn't think about how stunning he was. His mind didn't wonder to their conversations they'd had or the intimate moments under the sheets after hard sex. No not at all. Cause all those feelings were false. He couldn't possibly have feelings for that gorgeous, intelligent brunette from before. Never.

**Author's Note: Get it, cause I concluded Logan's feelings that way. Or I was just lazy. I'm going to be honest, I barely finished this in time to post it. Sorry for spelling and grammar errors, but it's hot off the press. That's why this is going to be short. I want to give a shout out to my best friend in the universe and the best Kenlos/Kames writer I know, **_**ShadowCaller**_**. I love this boy to pieces. Just felt you should all know because he's a-fucking-mazing. Kay, review and tell me what you think. Almost a hundred. So close; we've done this together. I think we'll break it with this chapter. EXCITING! Luv Ya. XoXo.**


	10. Chapter 10

"Fucking Shit Carla,"

*Buzzing*

"No, No way in hell, your name is Carla not Candy sweetheart and you know that."

*Buzzing*

"Look, snap the fuck out of it, you are not my girlfriend and you're not a prostitute, you're a-,"

*Buzzing*

"Get the hell over yourself, you're an actress and I'm giving you a damn night off. Why don't you and what-the-hells-her-name go and see a play or some kind of shit. I have other things to do."

*Buzzing*

"Fucking Kendall Business, okay, and by the way, I don't have to explain myself to you. So good-fucking-bye. Go fuck yourself."

James stabbed the bright red button on the small phone in his palm before finally stepping forward into the bustling club he was outside of. He desperately didn't want to be there at the moment. He wanted to be somewhere else getting drunk off his ass with a bunch of other people he didn't know and waking up with a total stranger the next morning.

He did not want to be going into a twenty-something club like this.

Sure, Disgraceland was a cool name, but the place was by no means that; it was more like a million rich teenagers dry humping their way to morning. Barely anyone drank there; James could swear that the hardest drink he knew they had was a Screw Driver Bacardi and that wasn't promising for a successful one night stand. The place smelled of frat and skank, a weird mix of Paris Hilton perfume and over done musk that only this club could pull off successfully.

And the tall teen was deplored by it; it was utterly disgusting to him. He knew it would be absolutely hypocritical of him to judge anyone young for also being rich. He was nineteen with a couple million dollars; he couldn't exactly speak when it came to this.

Plus, he wasn't the best at spending either; he crashed his beloved helicopter on the run way two weeks after buying for texting while flying. He survived, but it still scared the living crap out of him.

So to compensate for almost dying do to his own stupidity, he rented out a private island for a weekend and completely totaled the yacht he had bought by driving it straight through the pear; he hit a steal bar and almost killed himself.

But that still didn't frighten him cause he had made it after all; he was completely intact and decided what he needed to do was celebrate his escape from the possibly fatal accident. But instead of something too extravagant like before, he decided to scale down for once; he bought a mansion in Beverly Hills and just like before, got shit faced and did stupid stuff. He started lighting cash on fire to show his drunken guest his utter wealth and accidently dropped a roll of it onto the floor, letting it hit a curtain and slowly burn. But because slowly burning just wasn't enough for the tan teen, he then grabbed a bottle of Everclear and poured it straight down the curtain to wear the lit money had hit and immediately it went up in flames. Immediately everyone noticed and escaped before it got to the rest of the house. Fire fighters were able to save sixty percent of the house, but the core of the house was charred.

And you'd think after stupid events like this, he would have learned, but no; yet there was a deeper meaning to him never seeing the error of his ways. He simply didn't want too. Because by seeing that error, he'd be forced to face himself and so he continued on his crusade to do things that no person ever should. He simply couldn't handle the thought of seeing his inner self because he would face demons that he'd fought hard to shove down. He would face his greatest foe. Himself.

So he continued doing this stuff, being destructive and disruptive because he could; what other reason would he need to ever have. Well, he could and … there was something much deeper than just that. Deeper than any wound. It was because his ultimate hope was this; to be his own destruction.

For normal people, that's a hard concept to grasp, but for James, it was absolute reality; his need to die had started at the age of ten when he realized there was something desperately wrong with himself. Or so he thought was wrong. So he repressed it and that repression turned into depression and that depression turned into anger and that anger started to get directed to the very person he resented the most; the person staring back at him in the mirror.

Which all accumulated into the character he was today; James Diamond, second half of the boy band Big Time Rush. That wasn't all that the media called him, but it was the only kind part of it. He could keep them off of most of his business, but there was always that ten percent he was caught for. Yet he didn't give a damn; they had a manager, Sarah, who took care of this stuff.

Plus, this was his job; reckless, handsome Artist who was flakier than cereal. And that's how he lived with the person he was every day.

Slowly, he finally trudged his way farther into the mass of hot sweaty bodies before coming upon the bar. And who was sitting at the bar but someone else frustrated and upset; a very specific brunette.

Logan was still majorly pissed off over what had happened the night before; he really thought it was going well before he began to think about it in depth. Was Kendall really being so honest the whole time about it and he would never notice?

The brunette considered himself very perceptive, but one of his biggest down falls came from the motto he had for himself; ignorance is bliss. He knew it was bad to hold himself like that, but so much bad had happened in his life that he either had to adapt or die trying. That was his way; learn to ignore the bad.

But was this him saying that Kendall liking him more than just physically was bad? His heart told him no. But his heart had gotten him into many situations that had screwed him over; he barely ever listened to that voice. Instead he thought with his head and at the moment, it was screaming at him that this was the worst thing possible. Logan was a prostitute, not a boyfriend. He wasn't boyfriend material and he never would be. Cause He wasn't Gay. Or Straight. He just wasn't. He wasn't anything. Anything but a good trick and he acknowledged that, so why did the blonde have to shake things up.

The shorter teen turned to the bar tender and ordered another drink, the hardest thing he could find to get rid of these thoughts. _You're here to have fun, not to think about work. _He was continually forced to remind himself of this; he knew full well that the party at the 'It' was going on while he was sitting on that stool. And he was choosing not to go.

He was taking a break from work; that was the simple point of it. He needed to take some time out of his life for himself; to have some fun. He knew it was selfish to not be spending this time with Carlos, but he needed it. He needed it to clear his head and remind himself why he did it at all and why he hated it and why he was what he was in general.

So currently, he was sitting on a tall bar stool swallowing his drink as fast as he could while the dizzying lights above flashed to the beat of the amazingly annoying music. And that's when James finally noticed with the phone buzzing in his hand.

"What!" James yelled into the phone, the tone of his voice signaling his current fiery mood.

"Damn James, calm down," Kendall replied, "I was just calling to check in."

"Look, I'm at this little shit hole of yours-,"

"That is not a shit hole; it's one of the best clubs in the whole fucking city."

"It's a complete and utter shit hole, but I'm here; what the hell do you have to tell me?"

"Look, I just wanted to tell you about the …. Um…. Person you're looking for so…"

"Yup, tell me about her,"

"Well, it's just, it's a little more complicated than that,"

"You're a lazy asshole and you want a hooker, I don't see how that could be complicated."

"That's not the story or the reason, but I don't want to get into what happened, so –,"

"So tell me what I'm looking for or I hang up and leave right now."

"Well, she, um, she has dark brown hair,"

"How long is it?"

"It's really short and kinda spiky in a weird way on top,"

"O….kay, she doesn't sound your type so far, but continue,"

"And she, um, she kinda has a little curve in her hips with a nice ass,"

"Now we're talking,"

"And um, she usually wears combat boots or converse,"

"Wait, not heels?"

"No, never heels,"

"Are you sure you're describing this girl right,"

"Yes dammit, now let me finish,"

"Fine,"

"And, well, I have no clue what kinda shirt h-I mean she, would wear but she has no chest and is really thin, but sorta toned and,"

"And this is the hooker you want?"

"Yeah. She's perfect. But the final thing is that she wears really thick eye-liner. Not like Taylor Mommsen raccoon, but more like, well, it's just eyeliner. Kinda bad bo- I mean just eye-liner."

"Do you want my opinion."

"Never,"

"I'm gonna give it to you anyway; are you talking about a guy?"

"Why does it matter,"

"It's the difference of whether you're a faggot or not."

"I really don't like that word,"

"Look dude, I can't help you anymore, this is, it's just to much for me. If this is what your into, I- deal with this on your own."

"Wait, but-,"

James pushed the button quickly before slipping the phone back into his pocket, immediately rebuking every word he's just spit out at the boy who was almost his ex-friend at this point. James hated the word, 'faggot'; he had his reasons. And his reasons had much deeper meaning than he ever let onto, but those reasons were the same ones that drove him to the brink. Cause this was the thing that was wrong with him. The thing he was desperately trying to take back in any form he could.

His head was starting to hurt from the chaotic surrounding setting and the all the confusion in his head wasn't helping him to get over any of it at all. Quickly, he finally sat himself down at the bar and with his head in his hands, he ordered the strongest drink they had.

"If you're expecting to not remember tonight," the teen next to him started, "you're going to need a lot more than just one tequila shot from this place."

"What's that supposed to mean," James questioned back, confused as to why this person next to him was even addressing him when most people were intimidated by celebrities.

"It means that the tequila shots are so watered down that you'd have to pregame vodka to ever want to get drunk off of the stuff here."

"Ha, so what's your point for sitting at the bar all lonely when you can be out there dry humping a future heiress of America?"

"I'm really not all that interested right now,"

"So you're just going to sit here, trying to get off of lightweight liquor,"

"You knows it," the other teen responded, "cheers frickin to that!"

"Hell yes," James retorted, clinking the glasses together before both drank them as fast as they possible could, "I like you. A lot. And I usually hate people like you at first. What's your name?"

"Wow, forward ….. yeah, I'm Logan. Logan Mitchell. And I just got out of a really interesting relationship."

"Interesting; I can't read if that's a good thing or a bad thing from the way you said it,"

"He-,"

"Oh, you're gay."

"No, I'm, I'm ….it's really complicated, but I was sleeping with this boy and he wanted it to be something it wasn't."

"And what would that be."

"A relationship,"

"Isn't that what you said it was?"

"Well, it was a completely physical relationship and he wanted to make it more than that and I didn't."

"So what you're saying is that you wanted to fuck him,"

"No, I was the one getting fu- look, I was the bottom, alright."

"Yeah, got it, and he wanted it to leave that stage."

"Right,"

There was a long pause between the two boys and at first, Logan thought that his new acquaintance was freaked out by the gay sex thing, but when he turned back to face him, horror was not the look painting his face.

"I could do that for you," James finally interrupted, the dead silence immediately evaporating into nothingness.

"Do what?" Logan responded coyly, acting like he didn't understand the obvious.

"Look," the taller teen's eyes swept the bar, eyeing to see if there was anyone eavesdropping on their conversation, "I, fuck, you're really hot and I, well, I need this. I need this bad. So you in."

"How much are you willing to pay?" the brunette asked with a sense of irony and humor, saying the phrase that felt like air at this point.

"Three thousand for the whole night, and you keep quiet about it afterward," the tanned by responded with a grin.

"I was kidding asshole," Logan retorted, "plus if I were a hooker, _I'd be making a thousand an hour_, not three thousand a night."

"I thought was a rather generous offer, but that isn't an answer; so are you in or are you out."

Logan started to think about the situation lately and realized something; he'd come to have _fun_.

"Yes," the brunette finally responded before taking another drink from the glass, "I'm all yours tonight."

James smiled before grabbing his hand and leading him onto to the back of the club, past the half part burnt out 'Exit' sign and into the open alley. Carefully, he planted a soft kiss on the shorter boys head before leading him to the electric blue Porsche waiting in the parking lot. And like a night long before, they sped off into the night, to a familiar hotel, near a familiar room, and did a familiar deed.

But the whole time, Logan had one specific thought in his head. One specific thought about one specific boy. One specific boy with one specific name. Kendall.

**Author's Note: I'm so incredibly sorry guys, this was supposed to be out yesterday, but I got busy and I suck and, and, and, no excuses. I'm sorry. I really hope you can forgive me. And please check out my incredible unicorn husband who writes Kenlos and Kames, **_**ShadowCaller**_**. He's incredible. And You know what they say. Spouses that write together are spouses that write together. Okay, so no one says that, but they easily could. LOL. Anywho, please review and all that incredible stuff cause it makes my universe. I love you all to frickin pieces. **** Luv Ya. XoXo.**


	11. Chapter 11

An _almost _familiar deed.

If it weren't for the insufferable blonde racing through Logan's head, with his sparkling emerald eyes and distinct presence … NO! The blonde currently occupying his mind was simply a confused prick who fell for a hooker. Nothing more.

And he was not the only reason for Logan to suddenly lose the urge and the feeling of the moment like this; surprisingly, it was the taller teen himself.

Logan immediately clutched the sheets tight as the realization of the moment started to wear in on him; he was not ready to do this at all. Sure, the boy was cute … damn, cute was an understatement. This boy was hot; this boy was beyond hot. He was scorchingly sexy that he left charred remains were normalness had been from his looks alone.

But from the moment he stared talking to the brunette at the bar, Logan could absolutely swear there was something absolutely familiar about him. Maybe it was alcohol glasses or all his frustration, but it only seemed minor at first.

Until the taller teen stripped down.

This was James.

James Diamond.

This was James Diamond of the hit, pop-music boy band that was currently conquering the charts, called, "Big Time Rush."

This was James Diamond who had recently been caught by US magazine feeling up Katy Perry behind the red carpet.

This was the James Diamond that had called Justin Bieber, 'the best damn lesbian alive,' and referred to Lady Gaga, as that, 'that sexy tranny.'

This was James Diamond, the wild and raunchy half of Big Time Rush. This was James Diamond, The other member with Kendall Knight.

Fuck. Kendall Knight. And again the brunette was lead back full circle with the thing he had been desperately been avoiding all night long.

Which was how they got here, with the shorter boy clenching the white sheets tight to his body while the taller teen was slowly sucking on Logan's neck to get his attention.

"What is it Logi-," James started, slowly placing one arm around Logan's shoulders.

"PLEASE!," Logan interrupted, before pushing James arm away from himself, "Don't call me that."

"Are you okay Logan?" the tanned boy asked cautiously, pulling away ever so slightly.

"No. Not really. I Just … I need to go," the shorter teen said, yanking himself out of his spot on the bed, pushing James off in the process.

"What? Was it something I did?"

"No, it's not you it, it's just,"

"Let me guess, it's not you, it's me; I've said that a million times, so at least come up with something new."

"Look, you're very good looking, it's just, I'm not ready for this and ... and neither are you. You don't know what you're getting yourself into by doing this with me. You just-,"

"I do though," James responded before sitting up on the ruffled sheets, "I know that you're sexy and I know that you were willing. And I know that I was too. And I know that I'm just as hot."

"You sound like a real douche bag right now," the brunette accidently said, starting to crack from the smile that the taller boy was shining at him, "Look, it's just, I really don't feel comfortable."

"Why?"

"Um, if you haven't noticed your James Diamond, and you're famous, and I thought you were straight, and you're a bit of a man whore, and … and … some other things."

"Ouch, that actually kinda hurt-,"

"It was true."

"The truth hurts Logi.." James stopped when he saw Logan's eyes flair, "Logan. The truth hurts."

"There's just a lot right now and I'm not ready to do this with you and so, I just, I hope you understand,"

"I don't understand shit but I like you enough not to try anything else,"

"That's the sweetest thing you've said to me so far."

"Well you know what they say; I'm a bit of a charmer."

"No, all I've heard about you is that you're an ass-hat,"

"I resent that,"

"You represent that,"

"I hate you, you know that," James shouted, throwing a pillow at the standing brunette who quickly dodged it before they both started laughing.

Both boys stayed in their respective positions in silence for a while, shifting and playing with different things in signs of boredom, so as not to have to go to the next step that the conversation would inevitably take.

But after long enough, Logan could no longer wait; all he wanted was to be anywhere but there in that stale situation.

"So … um, this is awkward, but um … can you sorta, well … if it's possible, could you, um," the shorter teen broke the silence, but stumbled through his words, embarrassed at his request.

"What?" James responded, a hint of frustration highlighting his voice at the very tips.

"It's just … okay I'm just gonna cut the shi… iz and come out and say it," Logan exclaimed before throwing himself onto the pristine white couch on the left wall, "it's like midnight and I really don't want to take the bus home. Or a cab. So …."

"So you want me to take you home?" James questioned, swinging his legs out from where they were on the bed and placing his feet on the solid ground.

"Yeah," the brunette finally spit out, not looking the other boy in the eyes; instead he was looking at the ground, his arm above his head with his hand wrapped around the back of his neck. This was just all so embarrassing. He was above nothing …. But this just seemed cruel to ask of now. He was asking the boy he'd just rejected and made fun of to take him home; he could see a million ways this could go wrong.

"Crap," the taller boy finally breathed out, "so you're gonna make me put my pants on after all."

Logan finally looked up with a grin that matched the other boy's as the taller teen got up from the bed and started fumbling around, searching for his jeans. Quickly, both boys started to change as fast as they could, with Logan pulling his plaid shorts up as fast as he possibly could and James putting his ensemble back on as quickly as possible.

Well, as quickly as you can slip a skin tight purple v-neck and an even tighter blue leather jacket on; Logan didn't want to particularly admit it, but he was even hotter with clothes on.

Then again, there was a boy that could eclipse James's level of sexiness in Logan's eyes.

But now was not the time to think about him or his dirty blonde hair and …. Immediately Logan caught himself before he thought about him anymore. There was no thinking about James's fellow band member; there was no even acknowledging his existence.

Right now, Kendall Knight was just a boy in a band that Logan would never meet. Again at least; He'd be sure of it.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of internal war over the current unspeakable subject, the smaller brunette turned and saw the tanned teen pulling his boot up over his skinny jeans.

Quickly, Logan jumped up, deciding they were ready to go, but instead of making his way for the door, James started fumbling in his pockets searching for something unknown to the shorter boy.

"What the friggs taking so long?" Logan questioned, visibly frustrated that he still hadn't left yet; was it that wrong of him to want to escape the extreme awkwardness of this moment?

"Calm your ass," James called back, locating the mysterious thing that he had been searching for through his jean pockets, "This is important."

"Combing your hair?" The brunette questioned, giving James a strange look as he examined the taller boy.

"It's the most important part of all Mr. Bossy pants," The taller teen responded, winking at Logan through the mirror while running the object through his locks, "If your hair doesn't look good, you don't look good. You're hair represents you. In a way, you are your hair."

"Isn't that a Lady Gaga song?" Logan retorted, still annoyed at the detour from getting home.

"YES!" James hollered back with a wide smile, "And it's my favorite song off the whole album and if you talk bad about it at all I swear to god I'll beat your ass."

"Ooh,violence," The shorter teen responded with his hands held up in the air, "Not very Gaga-y of you to bully me now is it?"

"Its not bullying if …. Well …. Fuck, you win ass and speaking of which I'm working pretty hard to not have gotten any so try not to bitch too much."

"Gotten any what?"

"Gotten any ass… from you …. and I'm working hard so calm down on the judgmental bitch thing, kay?" James finished, jamming the comb down into his denim pocket.

"Fine," the brunette huffed out, crossing his arms, "Take your time."

"I'm happy that you feel that way," the tanned teen responded with a devious grin, "but I'm ready to go slow poke, so come on."

"Ha. Ha." Logan responded in a monotonous voice, before hopping up from his spot on the bed and rushing out of the door.

They did their best not to knock anything in the long hallway over, avoiding the numerous tables with vases or flowers as they sprinted across the hall. Logan was at first tempted to take the stairs down from the fifth floor of the complex, but James grabbed his arm and pulled him into the half full elevator.

The lobby was a different challenge, with both of them doing their best to avoid the dozens of guests and luggage cases cluttering the floor, but they finally got through and made an a-line for the car.

With a renewed excitement, they raced to the sparkling car, swinging the doors open and getting in as fast as humanly possible. On impulse, Logan started to grab for the seatbelt but as soon as he wrapped his hands against the material, the other teen in the car slammed his foot against the gas, zooming out of the dark parking spot.

The drive was stiff, with neither daring a word except for Logan quietly listing out directions to his apartment complex and as soon as they pulled up, the anxiousness that Logan had had finally taken over.

Not thinking about what he had brought or what he had on, he got out of the car as fast as he could, slamming the door shut and racing forward, muffling James's loud 'bye.'

Finally after what felt like an eternity, the shorter teen finally got up to his room and panting, pushed the key into the lock, but before he could do anything else, Carlos had the door open and ready.

"Oh My God!" Carlos exclaimed with a smile, "Im so insanely happy your here LoLo! I missed you so much .. I just … Im so happy your home!"

The latin boy scurried out the door and wrapped his arms around the stiff still Logan, bringing the brunette in as close as possible for a warm hug. For a moment, the short teen resisted, but he couldn't stop himself and gave into hugging his younger brother back, making the warm moment even better.

"Yeah, Im glad to be home too buddy," Logan responded in a quiet tone, "So I'm figuring you missed me tonight?"

"Well, Yes!" Carlos shouted, still giddily pacing at his own excitement, "Jenny and Laura aren't here to keep me company and you know how much I hate to be alone and-,"

"It's okay Carlos, you don't have to explain yourself," Logan said, plopping himself down on the worn couch they had, "I'm really glad to be back too. Especially cause it makes you so happy!"

"It truly does," the younger boy responded, grabbing the remote and walking over to fridge, "but can I get you anything?"

"Nahh," the brunette responded, slipping his tennis shoes off and making himself comfortable on the couch.

"Well, I'm gonna make popcorn anyways, okay?"

"Do whatever you want bro, it's not like I'm going anywhere."

"Kay, well, um … Kay, Im gonna make that popcorn now!" the Latin boy replied, practically hopping into the kitchen and slamming things open and shut in his quest to make a midnight snack.

Logan had a lot to reflect on while on the couch alone though, like the fact that for the first time in his entire career he couldn't go through with sex. If he even listed the things he'd done or who he'd done them with, the fact that he'd say no to anything was shocking.

The minute you can say you let four soccer moms peg you with strap-ons for two hundred dollars was the moment you could say that you've done everything. So turning down an actual hot guy was more than surprising; it dared to defy logic. Logan's only argument was that he wasn't gay, but even that didn't sit right.

Lately he'd been having different feelings, he'd been more and more conflicted and he wasn't sure why … or he was and he was afraid to admit it. Desperately afraid to admit that a certain blonde with a certain pair of green eyes was making him question his self proclaimed asexuality.

Lost in thought, he completely missed the door knock or Carlos shouting for him to go and get it for him and after that he missed the Latin boy taking the bowl of popcorn with him to just get it himself. What finally caught his attention was the loud crash of plastic to the floor and the rolling waves of white and yellow kernels slowly spreading across the ground.

Quickly, the brunette turned around to see an all too familiar face in the doorway, giving him a small grin while Carlos clutched his chest.

"Hi," the tall boy in the doorway finally said, looking at both boys, "you kinda left this with me tonight."

Carlos took one last look before his eyes fluttered to the back of his head and he started to tip backwards, with the tanned teen catching him in an instant. That was the first time James met Carlos; it would not be the last.

**Author's Note: I'm not exactly sure what to say to you all. I guess the best I can do is I'm so incredibly sorry. I know this took forever and it wasn't fair of me to take so long, but I lost my inspiration. For a long time I tried desperately to get it back, but it took forever. It wasn't till the amazing **_**ShadowCaller **_**and **_**AllAboardTheKoganShip**_** helped me to find what made me choose to continue this story in the first place. Them, and you all. Thank you for your loyalty and support, it means the world. Luv Ya. XoXo.**


	12. Chapter 12

For an instant, the brunette sprawled across the couch didn't make one move, as if petrified by some unknown force. He couldn't seem to put two and two together and realize that the teen he had almost slept with was now cradling his brother in his arms.

And then reality hit him again and it all became real; this smug asshole from before was now the only thing between his brother and the floor.

Immediately Logan darted over from his lazy spot on the couch to where the fallen boy was laying in James's arms currently, doing his best to stay calm in the face of what had just happened. So far he had failed though.

"What the fuck are you doing here," Logan hissed out, his disdain bleeding through every part of his voice, "Cause I know sure as hell I didn't invite you up.

"Look, you left this in my car an-," James started, but the look painted on the shorter teen's face cut him off.

"Then you should have kept it and moved on," the pale boy breathed out, "You should have kept driving and forgot about tonight's rendezvous just like I did."

"I just … I …. I'm sorry, I just, I never got to say goodbye and I kind of felt guilty about that," the taller one said, trying to find the words currently escaping him.

"Do you not understand that you had no reason to say 'good-bye,'" Logan spat back, frustrated beyond words at the situation, "I wasn't even a good lay. I wasn't a lay at all. I was a boy you took to an apartment and then drove home and that's it; there wasn't even a goodnight kiss."

Logan looked up to see James's face, stung and distorted as the taller boy desperately tried to regroup and come up with some kind of response, but the brunette could tell that it wasn't going to happen.

He didn't want to, but he was starting to see that this new boy was just trying to do something nice; an act of genuine kindness based on some misguided view of friendship he believed he had created with Logan. Maybe they were. But the brunette was pretty sure that just not having sex didn't equal a friendship, it just meant meant chastity.

In any other situation he probably would have probed even further into his reasoning, for Logan feared the outcome, but seeing how James was carefully checking Carlos who was laid across his arms was just disarming for him. Watching this giant celebrity take care of his little brother like this warmed his heart in so many ways.

Seeing James act like this reminded Logan that James was in fact a human and not some dreamt up figure of his imagination; that contrary to everything he knew from second hand learning, that James was a good person at heart. At heart. There was still so much on the surface to deal with but that could take years and he wasn't exactly up for that.

"Look, I'm ….," the brunette struggled to form the words, apologies like this feeling strange in his mouth, "I'm sorry for being so hasty to judge, but, It's a lot. I'm sorry."

"Its fine," James cut in, slowly slipping his arms even farther under Carlos who was still unconscious, "I'm not really sure why I came up, I just felt like I needed too. I needed to properly say good-bye."

"You really didn't have too,"

"Actually, I did," the tanned teen corrected before finally scooping the Latin boy up entirely into the air, "What you did for me tonight was, I don't know how to say this, but in a strange way it gave me clarity."

"And what kind of clarity would that be exactly," Logan questioned, avoiding Carlos's legs as James swung him in the air and carefully started to walk over to the couch.

"You know you're the first person to ever turn me down," the taller boy started, carefully sitting himself and the Latin boy down on the cushions, "You're the first guy to ever say no to me."

"You're point,"

"It kind of forced me to think about something; what if it's not about my looks? I know I'm hot. I'm not gonna try and act like I'm not conceited or that I'm insecure; I'm pretty fucking sexy. I know it. That's how I've got to where I am today. And you know that my looks have made my entire life a breeze."

"No, I didn't know that …." Logan's sentence trailed off, "Mainly cause I'm not you, but why don't you continue."

"It's just, It's the one thing about me that I know will get me what I want is my looks, but there's always been something missing. I've always felt empty. I've always felt absolutely wrong."

"You're actually complaining to me about feeling like having nothing when I live in this life little and you live in a mansion?" Logan retorted quickly, but recovering with an even quicker, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," the taller teen responded, adjusting Carlos's head on a pillow in his lap while the short one ran to get ice, "I understand. Right now you think I'm that rich boy stereotype; has everything and yet wants simplicity. Yeah. It Isn't that easy for me."

Logan finally finished getting the ice and put it on the Latin boy's head, doing his best to try and wake him up from his fainting spell he'd just fallen into. So far it wasn't helping. But what the ice did do was make Carlos cuddle into the taller boys stomach, which from were Logan was standing, looked very odd.

"Hey, um,"

"Yeah," James responded, "give me a minute."

The brunette thought he had made it clear that the tanned teen was to get up out of the spot with his brother and allow Logan to lay there on the couch and cuddle him, at the least to provide warmth. But he couldn't lie, some of it was just cause he liked cuddling with his little brother.

But just cause that's what he thought he had made clear, doesn't mean that's how the message was particularly interpreted on the other boy's part. Upon watching Logan and seeing what he was doing, James had gotten a different signal; do it himself.

As soon as the shorter boy walked over to where he had left the remote, James quickly started to shuffle himself more onto the couch without disturbing the other one with him. As swiftly as possible, he pulled his legs up and rested them across the cushions, readjusting his body so he was leaning on one of the arms with a pillow propped behind his back before pulling the Latin boy into a tighter embrace.

After stumbling around the floor trying to find the control in the dim light, Logan finally turned around to see James holding his brother close on the couch, both boys tight together to escape the cold of the apartment flooding around them.

In any other mood, Logan would have gotten even more frustrated and just let loose on his anger; this was not what he meant and this was definitely not his intention. But there was something about the look in James's eyes or the way that Carlos was hugging onto him for dear life that stopped him. There was something about the way that the two boys were connected without knowing each other.

The brunette would call bullshit on Disney love stories any day, but this seemed like one; if there was love at first sight, this seemed like a case. Or Maybe Logan was just being a hopeless romantic. He wasn't entirely sure.

But for some reason, he didn't have the heart to correct the taller boy on the couch with his brother, he could only look on and think about possibilities. The possibilities of James and his sibling. The possibilities of him and James. The possibilities of himself and Kendall. And for just one moment he got lost in the world of imagination and wonder he had so desperately been avoiding.

And just as soon as the moment started, the tanned teen accidently interrupted it.

"Hey Logan," James said carefully, waking the brunette form his haze, "He's kinda shivering and holding him isn't helping him as much as I thought it would. So could you bring us a blanket of something …"

The pale boy got up to follow the instructions he was just given,

"And um," The tanned teen added in an even softer voice, "could you sorta tell me his name exactly; it makes this kinda awkward cuddling this boy I don't know. And on that subject, how do you know him? He isn't your boyfriend or anything is he?"

Immediately the look on James's face changed as he thought about whom the person he was holding could be and Logan couldn't help but snicker; it was funny to watch him care like that. But after the brunette threw the afghan over the pair, he finally proceeded to explain a little. He liked toying with James a little bit, but he wasn't in the mood for too many games tonight.

"He's my brother," Logan said, walking back away from the pair on the couch.

As soon as he turned to leave, he caught a look at James, now slightly sitting up and shooting him a strange look; the brunette couldn't help but snicker after catching the tanned teen's expression.

The way his eyebrow was arching at the moment was boardering on criminal it was so funny. If Logan wasn't careful, the laughter might actually kill him. There really wasn't a way to explain the look on his face besides questioning.

"Um," James started, clearing his throat, "seriously?"

"Seriously," Logan responded from his spot in the kitchen, taking a sip of water from his glass.

"Is that ….." The tanned teen searched for the right way to say it but it just wasn't obvious, "Possible? Like what, do you have the same mom with different dads or … what?"

The shorter boy was finding it incredibly difficult to contain any laughter at the way James was reacting to this news. Most people just accepted it when Logan said it and moved on with their own assumptions about the pair; it seemed like that wasn't going to be enough for the pop star.

"It's sorta complicated," the shorter boy stated, finally reentering the room, this time with two glasses of water in hand, "but my parents died when I was really young and-,"

"I'm so sorry,"

"It's fine," Logan said, taking another slow sip of the drink in his hands before remembering the glass he had brought for James, "By the way, do you want this?"

James looked at the glass of water being offered to him and then down to the boy in his arms and immediately Logan got it; unless Carlos was a cup holder, that wasn't exactly going to be possible at the moment.

"Right," the shorter boy started again, putting the cup down on the coffee table next to were he was sitting before proceeding with his story, "Anyways, so I was in the foster care system for a really long time and at my second house, I met him. We've been brothers ever since. Simple as that."

"Okay…" James responded, even though his sentence trailed a bit, "So, um, I guess this is still kinda awkward that I'm holding your brother that I don't even know."

"I really don't give a darn," The shorter boy replied, grinning a little, "But if he knew, he'd flip-a-switch. You're like his favorite member of Big Time Rush. And Big Time Rush is his favorite boy band in the whole world. By the way, your music annoys the living crap out of me on a daily basis now, and it's not cool."

A tense silence followed before James finally burst out in laughter at what the shorter boy had said and Logan finally let go of his Poker-face, letting his full Cheshire grin appear.

"You're brother likes boy bands," the taller boy said, still trying to retain his giggles, "Isn't that kinda …."

"Gay?"

"Yeah."

"You couldn't have guessed that by the big rainbow flag hanging in the corner over there,"

"Oh."

"Or the fact that he passed out when he saw you,"

"Well, you know," the tanned teen began with a smile, his cocky nature starting to pervade through, "I thought I was just that damn sexy."

Logan couldn't help but laugh when he saw James pop his jacket and then wrap his arms back around Carlos; to any rational person, this would have been a bizarre sight. This was one of those times the shorter teen was thankful for having a strange sense of rationality.

But something else was bothering him and it wasn't the blonde that so readily jogged through his mind; it was something else. It was something James said. It was something in the way James was acting.

He shouldn't have cared so much about the pop star – just hours before all he was for James was going to be a good lay – but he couldn't help it. Part of being a hooker was reading people's situations; if for anything to tell how vulnerable a person might be to getting one.

Reading emotions was almost part of the job description for him, but he had decided once he'd gotten good at it to take it past just his career. He took it into everyday life. He read every person's emotions to the best of his ability just for sport sometimes; it was a rather fun game with the right person.

The emotions he was sensing off of James were more disturbing than anything; after sobering up and deciding to use his little trick, he was sensing something from the tanned teen not so pleasant.

But his words were what scared Logan the most; James came up there for a reason. James followed him up for more than a gentleman's gestures and the shorter teen knew that.

The real question was how smart is it to question something like this; upon deciding upon how he would judge the situation, he realized that he'd have to take it with sensitivity.

But he couldn't help himself.

"Hey, um, James," Logan finally interrupted, breaking the long dead silence, "can I ask you something?"

"Yeah,"

"You said I gave you clarity tonight, you said that you were so much more than the stereotype, but I'm still left wondering, what do you mean? James …." Logan's sentence trailed off, "why did you follow me up here?"

"Oh," the tanned teen started, "I guess I should tell you. But You have to promise me something. You'll tell no one. Because what I'm about to tell you is … just swear."

Logan took yet another long sip from his glass before finally looking James in the eyes, "I swear."

**Authors Note: Dun. Dun. Dun. The way I wrote this, James sounds like some kinda fucked up axe murderer. Don't worry, he's not going to kill everyone. Yet. Just kidding, that kinda story is Colorless Color not this story. Honestly, I just wrote it sorta overdramatically; you'll find out when I update again. BTw, Kendall is back next chapter. Yay! So yeah, everyone, please review and tell me how you feel; I truly appreciate it. Thank you. You all mean so much to me. Luv Ya. XoXo.**


	13. Chapter 13

"Do you like yourself Logan?" James asked while pulling Carlos closer; though it was not the point, Logan was starting to get frightened that the Latin boy might actually have a concussion.

"Well, I've never really thought about it," Logan stated simply, slightly thrown by the question. What could this have to do with James?

The brunette had an inkling of what this could be, but he refused to face it head on; this couldn't be. It just simply couldn't be.

"Yeah you have," the taller boy responded, his eyes glued on Carlos and not the person he was talking to, "We all have. Everyone has. So I'll ask again; do you like yourself?"

"Well, that's a rather difficult question to answer and it's also really personal," Logan said slowly, making sure to annunciate every word possible, "I just met you James, you expect me to answer?"

"You swore to me that you wouldn't tell,"

"But I didn't swear to always answer,"

"Please, I just need to hear this," The tanned teen pleaded, his eyes still never lifting off of Carlos, "Please. I'm begging you. Give me this. Please."

Against every rational thought Logan was having about the situation, he made an important decision; he decided to tell James the truth.

There was something about the way that James sounded so desperate; there was something about the vulnerability he saw in James even though the taller boy was cradling his brother.

And so Logan did it; he mustered up every ounce of strength in his body and he started to confess what James wanted to hear, making every word he said important.

"No," Logan started, crossing his legs and slowly sitting back in his chair, "But I'm very different from you James; I have reasons I get to hate myself. And this is where you get to swear. I'm going to tell you a secret that you can never tell. Ready?"

"Yeah," James replied, finally looking up and facing Logan, their eyes finally locking, "I swear on my life, I'll never tell. As long as I live. Just tell me."

"James," the brunette responded, his stomach turning itself into a million different knots while he sat there, "James, I'm a hooker. I'm a prostitute. Escort. Whatever you call it, it's what I am. I've been doing it for a few years now and its one of those things that I'm beyond ashamed of. But just cause I'm ashamed doesn't mean I don't reap the benefits."

"Are you …." James was obviously searching for the right response but couldn't find it, "Are being …. Serious?"

"Yes, I'm being entirely serious and see that boy in your arms," the shorter teen pointed over at Carlos, still wrapped in the tanned boys muscular arms, "he knows nothing about it. And he never will. He's not allowed to because if he did, he would never let me continue doing it and I do it just for him. When I ran away with him-,"

"You ran away?"

"It's a really long story, but yes, we ran away from our last foster home. And that's when I started turning tricks. As soon as we got on the road. The family we were with was obviously not going to send us to college and I decided to take matters into my own hands."

"By hooking?"

"Yes; when I go out and sell myself, he gets to go to school and that's all that matters because he deserves to live that life. He deserves to be happy and meet a man and do all those things that normal people do and if it means that I have to do things with someone at the end of the day that's illegal, well, it's better than selling drugs."

The brunette sat up a little and chuckled at that, deciding this was the time he was allowed to do that. He genuinely didn't care if James laughed too because that was one of the only redemptions that he could let himself have; what he did was bad but it could be worse. A lot worse.

"I'm …. I'm so sorry. But that's so beautiful. It's bizarre and beautiful at the same time that you could love this boy so much that you're willing to do that for him. That you're willing to give him a better life by destroying your own. But that doesn't fully answer my question Logan."

"I was hoping you wouldn't catch that; I guess I have to finish now," Logan took a deep breath before finally continuing his story to the finish; "All those things make me hate myself though. Because every time I look in the mirror, I see every person I've slept with. I see all the pain in my life. I see jealousy because I want what I give him. And I hate that. I hate that I'm a horrible person. I hate the people I've hurt. I hate it all. I hate me."

"I'm sorry," the tanned teen responded, petting Carlos's hair, "I'm just so sorry."

There was a stale silence that filled the air after James finished and the brunette desperately wanted him to start his story; after all the truth he had just shared, he thought he deserved a little in return.

He wanted to know what the tanned boys deal was. Why was he here? Why was he so sympathetic? Why did he follow him up?

There were so many questions that the smaller boy was ready to ask and yet he couldn't and every reason for that was carefully thought out. And at the very top of that list was this; he wanted the truth.

If he was too forward about it he would scare James off, but it was possible that if he never asked, the taller boy would never tell.

So nursing the cold glass of water in his hands, Logan started to think and plan out all the ways this could and would go down. He was finding out. He wasn't going to have confessed something so deep for nothing. And if it meant fighting time, he would, but he was uncovering the answers.

In an odd twist of fate though, it was James who would spark the conversation in favor of Logan's interests.

"Hey Logan," the pop star said softly, brushing hair back with a quick finger while trying to not move the boy still asleep in his arms, "This is awkward, but what is his name exactly?"

"I never told you?" the shorter boy questioned, his eyes darting up immediately from where they were previously planted in the floor.

"Not really," the other boy responded quickly, "Or you did and I was looking in a mirror. Sometimes I just get myself."

Their eyes locked before James winked at Logan and he realized it was okay to laugh; if the brunette was learning anything tonight, it was that the tanned teen was no normal celebrity. He wasn't a bubble head in the slightest, which was actually Logan's fullest intention of him.

He seemed to know how he came off and how people perceived him to be, or misconceived rather, and James liked to play with people for that. At the current moment, his sudden found humility was sexier than his looks for the pale teen, but the true reasons for that went deeper than the few layers above surface.

It had to do with who it reminded him of; that sarcastic asshole humility that seemed to contradict while at the same time makes complete sense.

For a split second Logan could swear he felt that touch; the sweep of blonde hair against his face or the way his strong arms would constrict against the shorter boys chest after an intimate moment. And for the first time since the incident, Logan let himself have this.

He relished the moment for as long as it would last before finally letting himself slip out of the trance and come back into reality, and back to James examining Carlos.

"Hey you," James started, still looking the Latin boy over, "I thought you fell asleep."

"Nah, I just kinda need a minute," the hooker replied, sitting himself back up in the chair so he wasn't tempted to do that again. Or fall asleep. Either one would be bad at the current moment with Carlos injured.

"Cool … but seriously, I need to know his name so if you do fall asleep and he wakes up, I'll at least be able to call him something."

"His name is Carlos. Carlos Garcia-Mitchell. His last name is actually Garcia, but he took mine on cause he says that's what brothers do."

"That's actually incredibly sweet," the pop star commented, the corners of his lips curling slightly to reveal a tiny smile, "Do you do the same?"

"Yeah," Logan said with a smile, "He's my brother; it's what we do. If he wants me to have a piece of him in my name like he has in his, then I'll do it. I'd do anything for him."

"You really love him,"

"We've been through more together than most people can barely dream of happening to them. I think I love him more than I've loved any other human being. He's the only family I have. And I'm so glad that's how it worked out."

Logan flashed a lopsided grin at James, hoping that this could be his chance to finally get James to talk when he realized the other teen had tears strolling down his cheeks.

"Are you-," the brunette started, suddenly concerned about his guest.

"Yeah, I just ... I see how much you love each other and I hear what you give up for him and I ….. He hasn't said one word tonight and I know he loves you. I know it cause if you had done half those things for me, I know I'd love you. I've never in my entire life had a relationship like that."

"James, it's purely platonic; he's my brother, not my lover. It's not like we have some kind of relationship on that level, that's just … its sorta unthinkable. He's my little brother. I wouldn't-,"

"I didn't mean it like that," the pop star corrected, wiping tears as fast as he could, "it's just; I've never in my entire life had a relationship like that. I'm an only child. I never had a brother or a sister or even a fucking cousin to depend on. I had a few people that liked me because they knew my parents were rich and even they couldn't stand me. My whole life, I always felt different from everyone else and always hated that. All I wanted was to be normal; I wanted to have siblings and a dad who would cheer at my basketball games or a mom that would tuck me in at night and instead I would get the house keeper who was forced to stay up with me. Not once did I feel loved."

"You're parents loved you."

James peeled out a grim laugh, "You don't know how many times I used to tell myself that when I would go to bed. I used to whisper into my pillows that my mommy and daddy loved me, they were just too busy to say goodnight. I would tell myself to just wait; that the next day they were gonna wrap me in my sheets and turn my lights off for me. They were gonna tell me how much they loved me while kissing every square inch of my face they could find available. Instead of that, I would usually spend the nights with Brooke's face in a toilet, puking while cussing my father for cheating. I'll never forget how many fucking times I wiped stained mascara off her cheeks and then noticing the clots of vomit at the corners of her mouth. It was pathetic. And she always told me I was pathetic."

"That's …" Logan couldn't seem to capture the right words for the moment, "that's horrible."

"That's life," the tanned teen spat out, before calming himself, "cause secretly, the family that you're so jealous of; that perfect kid or that perfect couple, they're just as fucked up as anyone else. They're worse. They're just better at hiding it too."

James sat for a long time in silence while collecting his thoughts and emotions, leaving Logan there to nervously ponder what the tanned teen was currently indicating. It all went screaming one word. One frightening word. And the brunette refused to admit it, but he realized that if that word broke air, there'd be no denying it at all.

That thought was slowly scaring him more than anything else.

"The first real friend I ever had in my entire life was Kendall," the tanned teen's voice cut the quiet air again, shattering the previous stand still like broken glass, "he was the first person I could swear cared about me for me. He didn't care that I was talented or popular or rich, he cared about me as an individual trying to make it.

And I did my best to care about him, but I was such a little asshole I decided not to ever let him know. I decided to hide it. I knew that my presence kept him from getting bullied and that sufficed to me as caring; it kept him at a distance. Then I realized something; maybe I cared for Kendall a little more than just as my one honest friend.

So one night I called him, cause I was ready to confess how I felt about him and he was so eager and it was perfect and ... and …. And I was ready to have the one thing I wanted more than anything. I wanted someone to show me what love was. So I bought roses and got ready cause I just knew he liked me back, I just knew it would work and then I pulled up and started to question it. I started to question all of it.

What if he didn't like me? What if he liked another boy? What if he didn't even like boys? What if he only liked me for the same reason everyone else did? What if this changed things?

I saw his apartment and realized what I had to do; I through the flowers out of the car window, backed-up over them and drove away as fast as I possibly could. I didn't even call to cancel; I needed him to know that he didn't mean as much as he did. I was so fucking scared of being vulnerable that I destroyed him.

I regret that more than anything; after that he became like everyone else around me. He was shallow and artificial and an asshole; he was me in another body and I was disgusted. I realized that I had destroyed the last possible human being that could ever possible care about me and I saw the problem in Kendall. The problem is me. All of my problems root back to me.

They root back to the fact that I can't accept love. They root back to the fact that I can't accept that I'm gay. Or vulnerable. Or so many other things.

The moment I saw what I did to Kendall, I made a conscience decision that since I was the maker of all my problems, I'd also be the destroyer. Logan …."

Finally, James long story started to wind, but it was clear to the brunette that it also wasn't even slightly over. Because the tanned teen hadn't mentioned the key part of the story that he had been waiting for; why exactly was the pop star in his apartment. Why was he on the couch and why was he holding Carlos?

"James…" Logan began, responding to the other boy's last lingering word, "I need you to finish what you were telling me. Is that okay? Can you do it? Cause I need that from you."

"Logan," the tanned teen picked back up, "I've been trying to kill myself since I saw what I did to my Kendall. He's not even mine anymore; he's this monstrosity I've created and I hate it. I hate every second of it. I hate that I care about him. I hate that I even feel anymore. And so I've been trying, for so many years now, to end the pain I create. And it's not easy. But as soon as I could tell he had moved on; that he cared so much about someone else, I found the strength. There was some guy he asked me to pick up for him and that became my inspiration to do what I've been waiting for."

"Oh," Logan responded before looking back at the water he had in his hands.

"Yeah, I mean, he had come so far without me and I saw that with me gone, maybe he could even be happy; who ever this boy was, he made Kendall smile again. He gave him life I haven't seen in years. I mean, he even had Kendall embracing the fact that he likes boys; whoever he was, he taught Kendall things I thought I had destroyed in him. And it made me unbearably happy. So happy that I saw that this was the way I needed to go. Happy.

I was gonna get the guy for him, take him to were Kendall wanted me too, and then go end myself. I was just gonna drive off into a lake and let my car take me deep down into the dark. And I failed at that too. I fucking failed. I gave up and decided to drown myself in sex like usual with the first person I saw. I even called him a 'fag'; I haven't ever called him that. But it's just …. I can't do it anymore. I needed this all to end. And yet, when you rejected me, it made me see something; you love someone like he does obviously.

That boy you were telling me about; you still have feelings for him and I can't possibly get in the way of that. It's simply too beautiful. By turning me down, you brought me back to life. You showed me, with one single act, that there was more than just sex and looks and money. So I came up because … I'm scared that the moment I'm alone again, I'll do it. I'm afraid of myself. And for some reason, being with you makes me feel less alone. I don't know you for crap and I still feel better."

"But …"

James let out a disturbing chuckle, "but I'm not even welcome. That's how pathetic I am. I invited myself in, dumped all my problems on you, and I'm not even welcome. I'm sorry."

All of the sudden the tanned teen rose from place on the couch and laid Carlos's head down gently on a pillow before grabbing his coat.

"I'm just so sorry," he repeated, turning to face the brunette, stone still in his seat, "I should have never come."

But what happened next shocked both of them; what happened next was entirely unexpected. What happened next changed the game completely.

"Wait," a different voice choked out quickly, away from the two boys exchanging glances, "Don't go James. Please don't go. I want you here. You're invited to stay, just don't go."

Both of the brunettes turned sharply to see a tired Carlos rise from his comfortable spot on the couch onto his elbows, facing the duo.

"Please don't leave me," the Latin boy continued, "I love you. I don't even know you and I know I love you. Because what I heard tonight was possibly the most beautiful thing I've ever heard; that you care so much about him that you'd be willing to die for his happiness. Please, James, don't leave."

There was quiet while Carlos readjusted himself entirely, swinging his legs off of the couch and standing up, before slowly trudging over to were the tanned teen was standing.

"Please don't go," the younger brother repeated, before slowly wrapping his arms around James, "I want you here and that's all that matters."

James quickly wiped his moist cheek before he slammed his arms around the smaller Latin boy and drew him close, a huge smile spreading across his face.

"Yeah, okay," the pop star gave in, hugging the other boy close, "let me just call someone and I'll stay. I'll stay all night if you'd let me."

"Yeah," Logan finally interrupted, grinning while staring at his brother and the singer, "yeah, why don't you stay all night."

Giddily, James went off into a corner of the smaller apartment and pulled out his cell phone, Carlos watching from close behind, and he scrolled through his contact list as fast as possible. Finally he found the number he was searching for and punched it as fast as he could, praying he got voicemail.

Apparently god heard his pleas.

"Hey Kendall," the tanned teen started after the beep, "I'm not going to be home tonight. Sorry. I couldn't find the girl either. Maybe another time. I just wanted to let you know so you didn't wait up or anything; if you need me, just call me on my cell. Kay, bye."

James slammed the phone shut before sliding back over to the Latin boy who was leaning against the wall, and slowly they started talking, easing into subject by subject. Neither slept that night. They stayed up and talked as much as they could; the next day, James stayed with them at the flat and Carlos skipped his classes, opting to spend as much time with the pop star as possible.

And for the second time In James entirely life, he felt loved again; loved by a person he barely knew; and yet after those long hours together, the tanned teen felt like he'd known Carlos forever. With that, his previous thoughts of death had completely exited his thoughts. Now he had reason again. Now he had Carlos.

For Kendall, it was a different story; he avoided the tanned teens phone call after his burning words with all he could, knowing that it was just going to be a drunk misdial that would end up getting him told off.

The blonde was simply not up for it, but after long enough, he got curious and snatched his phone from the table, slamming his fingertips down on the buttons as fast as possible to get to his ex-friends message.

"Hey Kendall," the tanned teen started, his voice sounding slightly different, "I'm not going to be home tonight. Sorry. I couldn't find the girl either. Maybe another time. I just wanted to let you know so you didn't wait up or anything; if you need me, just call me on my cell. Kay, bye."

The pop star was in shock after hearing that; not only was their not one insult contained in it, but he also sounded sober. And like he gave a damn. And those two things combined brought a smile to his face, a smile that broke the long somber tone it had take from the early conversation.

But then he remembered the part about not finding the girl, the girl being Logan and his heart re-broke again, thinking of his lost chance with the boy he liked so much.

Slowly, he lowered his head into the cushions of the plush couch and let the tears form rivers down his face when he thought of another painful night with Logan, the only thing he felt like he had left. He had lost him.

And without Logan, Kendall started to question his will to live; he needed to see that boy again, no matter what. He needed closure. He needed one last look into those beautiful chocolate brown eyes.

Then he could be no more.

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for sticking with me; I know I've been so inconsistent. Sorry. But I hope you'll review and tell me what you thought, because those drive me. They keep me inspired to continue. Thank you so much. This story is truly dedicated to every one of you readers. You all mean the world to me. Luv ya. XoXo.**


	14. Chapter 14

And so there they were, learning as much about each other as they possibly could in their short time together and miles away, there was Kendall, slowly deteriorating his last bits of happiness left. For some reason, no one was paying a considerable amount of attention to Logan, but that didn't really matter.

The blonde was still in his shared mansion with James, by himself, replaying every second of what happened that night so long ago were he lost his brunette.

He kept going over all the things said and what happened exactly; all he could truly remember was having a melt down over hurting the hooker.

He truly didn't mean to hurt Logan either it was just … he was so frustrated and upset and for one moment, he needed to get that aggression out. He knew it was wrong, sick in its way, but he needed a sweet release from what the other boy was doing to him.

He just never meant to make the release what it became. He never meant to hurt him in any way, even if it was good pain.

Ecstasy.

That was not at all what Kendall wanted for his relationship with the brunette; he thought that it was more than just lust based at that point.

But what horrified him the most was the way Logan reacted to it; the way he treated it as just a really good fuck and not anything more.

Because for some bizarre reason, the blonde had started to believe that he was more than that; after getting to know the pale boy very well after four intimate months, he thought he held some meaning.

Apparently he didn't.

He didn't mean shit and that feeling was absolutely crushing to the pop star; for the first time in a long time, he let himself care again and he got burned this time worse than the first.

He got burned when he opened himself up to David. He knew it wasn't the man's fault, but it didn't make the pain falter any less when it hit. And it hit more often than he ever liked to admit.

Then James drove the figurative cigarette in deeper, burning him even worse when he opened up to him. He might never get over the pain of that rejection.

But nothing had hurt as bad as what happened with Logan; he was in so much pain he could swear it was physical at this point. He was beginning to fear that if he looked in a mirror, he'd see a large slash across his chest were his heart was.

Once was.

Because with the brunette's rejection that night, he felt his heart completely break. Beyond break. He felt it ripped out of his chest and squashed with the utmost force possible.

It was like every time he saw James with some slut or thought of his Father or even had his old family pop into his head had all just rushed in at once. There were barely words to describe just how much the other boy's rejection had hurt him.

And the worst part of all was the fact that he still cared so fucking much; he still wanted the brunette at all costs. When James had done this, the tanned teen had simultaneously died to him; when David disappeared, he simply stopped being anything but David.

So why in fucks sake was Logan different from the rest? Why the hell was this pale boy he'd just recently met having such a profound impact on Kendall?

He ran his thin fingers through his dirty blonde hair and took another slow sip from his glass of liquor, doing his best to enjoy the better taste before returning to his very complicated thoughts.

The muddle of questions and pain in his mind was like a large blaze being set off through his entire body. He felt each emotion to vein thoroughly scorched and burned, charred fixtures standing were they once supposedly were.

With that, he took another sip, this time quicker, and decided to finally start some kind of conclusion on what the best answer could be.

Maybe the reason he loved the brunette was because for the first time in his life, he met someone as fucked up as himself; for the first time he met someone with as many problems.

He found someone just as cracked and broken.

And yet together, for the first time in forever, he kinda felt whole again.

He was going back the club himself this time; he was going back and facing his demons himself because this constant wallowing was beginning to be too much.

All he needed was one last time to see the brunette, one last time to feel completed again before letting it go.

After all, how hard can dying be when you've had your last once of happiness?

James and Carlos couldn't possibly get enough of each other, talking about every little thing that would come to their mind just to explore each other more.

Some conversations were stupid and meaningless, serving more as fluffy humor than anything else. Those tended to end with a fit of giggling and two blushing boys avoiding eye contact for fear of even more giggling.

"I've had a crush on you for like a year now James," Carlos admitted, clutching the BOP magazine the tanned teen had found tight in his arms.

"I've have a crush on me too," James retorted quickly, flashing a smug grin.

"People tell me I'm crazy for liking you so much," the Latin boy continued, smiling a little from the look on the other boy's face, "They say that I have no chance. Cause not only are you a celebrity, but you're also straight."

"Oh do they," The tanned teen questioned, stroking his chin, "seems as though they must not fucking know me."

"Are you saying your g-," the smaller boy started, but immediately was interrupted.

In one quick, smooth step, James descended up Carlos and planted a huge kiss on his cheek, the quick ones that couples do on their first dates. The ones that say something meaningful, while staying flirty.

"I guess that answers you're questions doesn't it," James responded, his smug grin even more self indulgent, "cause I'm thinking right now they were all wrong. I feel like making you mine."

The tanned teens smug grin turned into a Cheshire smile while the Latin boy looked away, doing his best to hide his bright red blush, but failing to hide his school-girl giggles.

That was a moment he would never forget.

But there were also more serious conversations, like about James being gay; the tanned teen had a way of shying away from that topic. He flirted with it while never admitting it. And Carlos, tired of games, decided to address it clearly; it went a little like this:

"So …." The Latin boy awkwardly started, not fully sure of how to address the topic that had been plaguing his mind for a while.

"Yeah," James responded, noticing the change of pace in Carlos's behavior, going from up-beat to nervous in just instants.

"Are you actually," the shorter boy took a deep breath before finally continuing, "What exactly are you cause I know the world knows you as straight, but I'm under the impression that your …"

"Gay," James whispered, as if the word was some sorta curse.

"That's it," Carlos responded just as quiet, neither of their eyes meeting, "So are you _it_?"

"I guess."

"I don't mean to be rude, but that doesn't seem like a guessing matter."

"It's just … it's really complicated Carlos. I don't like labels - I just don't – and that's the worst of them all; that's one that destroys. It destroys lives and careers and I don't want to be caught in its wrath. So no. I'm not gay, I just like guys."

When the tanned teen finally looked at the Latin boy sitting across from him on the couch, he realized the stung look on his face and started to feel guilty. He had just met this boy and was already starting to some-what develop feelings? Not exactly strong ones, but they were there.

And the thought of hurting him was starting to break the tanned teen's heart.

"I'm so sorr-,"

"No, don't apologize," Carlos started, his eyes moist, "you're right, 'gay' does destroy. And so does 'straight'. And so does 'christian,' 'muslim,'or 'jew.' Every word can destroy. Because it isn't the word James, it's the person who says it. And if you can't embrace yourself for who you are, then I feel sorry for you because you're an incredible person and deserve happiness. But if you refuse to see who you are and love yourself for it, then what the fuck is your reason to live?"

James was taken aback by the harsh words, but not by the true intensity of them, but rather the truth contained in them. Never in his life had he thought about it like that.

But while pondering sorting through his new jumble of thoughts, he wasn't paying attention to what Carlos was doing or the fact that the shorter boy was away from his spot on the couch.

He didn't start paying attention until he felt to hands clasp his face and finally he looked up to face the other boy who was slowly bringing their lips together. His first instinct was to fight it; to fight it and insult Carlos the way he'd done time-and-time before.

But there was something different about this time and maybe it was the boy or maybe it was his words, but something changed James. Instead of fighting it, he took charge and started to lightly fight back against the Latin boy, who gave in as soon as the tanned teen decided to lead.

And the kiss was incredible; warm in every way it should be without going too far, without committing. Romantic but sweet at the same time; and for the first time in his life, James smiled during a kiss.

A kiss with a boy.

A kiss with anyone.

"Yeah," the Latin boy began again, taking deep breaths after rising from that incredible moment, "definitely not gay."

Carlos winked at him before giggling and the tanned teen through the throw pillow at him from where he was, but both were on the verge of collapse from joy and laughter.

And after a tense moment like that, they continued in their search of who each other were, finding out as much as they possible could in every second they had together. But one thing to stay constant was the flirting.

The incessant flirting.

The cute flirting.

The flirting that simply made Logan want to rip all his hair out and die.

The brunette was entirely done with the flirting and the quick kisses here, long glances there; he was finished with it.

Completely.

It was just hours before that that charming James was trying to slither into Logan's pants and now he was all good natured and flirty; the brunette didn't like it.

He didn't like his brother forming obvious feelings for the pop star or vice-a-versa.

Logan told himself it was because he cared that much about his little brother; he desperately didn't want to see Carlos get hurt and he realized that it was in James's nature to destroy.

He knew it was cruel to say, but sometimes the truth hurts.

Yet when you dug a little deeper you uncovered less than pure feelings about it; feelings that were much less that selfless.

Logan truly cared about his brother, but that was only half of the equation to why he wasn't completely sold on the pop star. The other half was more complicated; the other half seemed to involve another similar pop star.

He was starting to truly not like the relationship Carlos and James were forming; their sudden feelings.

Because it reminded him of his own particular feelings; he didn't want to admit it, but the pale boys problems with it were not exactly cause of what had happened with James before.

If he weren't so personally conflicted, he might even find the strength to be happy for them, seeing as from the outside they looked like a couple after just a day of mingling.

Ick. They barely knew each other and they were acting all lovey dovey; the brunette was starting to get sick of it.

He was so confused it was starting to make him ill; that was the worst part of all. Everything the thought of it all seemed to entirely contradict.

One second he was gushing about how cute they were together and the next he was disgusted by how quickly they were moving.

At this point, he was forcing himself to close his eyes to avoid watching with envy or joy; he was closing himself off.

And even when he did that he was destroying himself.

Because what James had confessed the other night had cut him deeper than he expected; never in his life did he suspect that he could tie into the tanned teen's problems.

To hear that Kendall cared so much caused the brunette to feel a soup of emotions like he'd never experienced and this mixture of feelings also tended to be scolding hot.

He new the blonde cared, but he couldn't have imagined that much; it was so incredibly sweet. To hear that the only thing left bringing Kendall happiness was himself made Logan feel like the only boy in the world. It made him feel like the only color in a sea of gray. It forced him to realize that he possibly reciprocated those feelings back to the pop star. Then again, those were the good feelings associated with those thoughts.

The bad ones had a tendency to flood in though every time he felt happy; he would go from giddy and excited to depressed and pissed off all in an instant. Because the bad ones reminded him of a few key points.

For starters the blonde didn't go himself; how much could he care if he sent his friend to go do the job for him.

Another was that the relationship was completely pay based; if they moved forward and took the taboo out of it, would it even matter for the pop star anymore? Would he still care as much?

And finally, the most haunting thought of all was this; by accepting the pop star's love and care, could he also accept himself.

Was Logan ready to admit that he possibly couldn't be asexual?

Was the brunette ready to say that sex was more than just a lusty job?

Was the pale boy ready to be happy and proud and in love and gay?

And so those questions and feelings fed into that soup, adding more contents to what already felt like an over filled cauldron. A bubbling, boiling, spilling over goulash of feelings and emotions and thoughts and points and questions. All of it.

Logan desperately need to clear his head; he needed to get out of that cramped apartment and away from his brother and his crush. He need the numb that the real world tended to provide from him.

The brunette decided to go back to the club and turn a trick; at least once more for old time's sake. After that, he'd decide what to do with these emotions. But what he needed at the moment was meaningless sex.

Hot, steamy, meaningless, faceless sex that would end with more than just a physical release and reward.

He was heading back to that place he met the pop star. He was going back to the 'It.'

And so, on a chilly January night, the two boys arrived at an all too familiar club; each walked down a dark hallway, albeit separate times, and each walked past a distinctly eerie 'It' sign.

Kendall got lost in the mass of heated bodied, doing his best to find a good place to sit; Logan shiimed into his newest wardrobe, glitter and skin tight jeans that were ripped to shreds.

Crawling along the wall, the brunette did his best to find the right way to make his entrance, and finally he found his mark. The perfect way to draw attention to himself.

And right when he got ready, he looked into the crowd and found himself stunned; his focus fell on one particular person.

His chocolate brown eyes met emerald green ones.

Logan stopped everything, clutched his stomach, and realized the jig was up.

**Author's Note: I just wanna give a quick thank you to everyone that read and reviewed; Benjamin-Steven, Write Me to Sleep, Joe, Rainy Dayz And Silver Dreams, BreakFree, Darth Sethbeck (Hi From The united states!), CaiteePaige, and my very special Love and Peace Forever. I luv you all so so much. And thank you all to you regular readers out there too. You all mean the world. Please continue to read and review the story; it keeps me motivated. You all are so incredible. Luv ya. XoXo.**


	15. Chapter 15

As soon as that brief moment ended, Logan found the room take on a new perspective; it was no longer his friend, but rather a confusing enemy that he was being forced to navigate.

At first glance with Kendall, he thought maybe now was the time to confront his demons and face the other teen, but then his senses rushed back to him all at once.

He remembered the horrible things he had said to the pop star, or the things he'd learned from James, or his own personal feelings. All this added up to one fact; he was so far from ready to confront his demons.

If he even dared face up to them, he was running the risk of being destroyed himself; slowly, he was absorbing the fact that facing up to the truth would ultimately be his doom.

So his next option set came into play; whatever he did, he just needed to escape. It was his first priority. Get out of the 'It' and back to somewhere where Kendall would either not find him or be to scared for confrontation.

Immediately, the pale boy threw himself against the cold white wall and started to trace his steps back to the dressing room, doing his best to maneuver past the sexed-crazed cliental standing in his way. And he was so close to making it out; he had almost achieved getting to safety when all of the sudden he felt someone grab his ass.

"Hey there cheeky," the voice said, his gruff tone putting no effort into masking the alcohol staining his breath.

At first the brunette thought that this was a drunken Kendall coming to get some kind of revenge and his panic started to set in further. What was the blonde gonna do? What could he do?

There were so many questions and all the while Logan could feel touchy hands feeling up his nude back and groping his bottom in their skin tight jeans, never relenting for a second. Apparently the blonde's revenge was some kind of drunken molestation.

Then Logan felt the eager hands start to wrap around his arms, slowly constricting his strength; that's when the real fear started to dive into action.

Was it possible that Kendall was actually going to do this? Was he going to force himself onto the brunette? It was unthinkable, but the pale boy realized that the unthinkable tended to happen when someone was intoxicated.

Finally the hooker couldn't take it and he mustered enough strength to break loose from one of the restraining arms and spun himself around, deciding to force the blonde to do this to his face.

And he did spin, coming face to face with the man handler who was scaring him.

And immediately he realized that this man wasn't Kendall at all; it was someone completely different, sleazier, more frat boyish than _his_ blonde had ever been.

"Calm down sugar cakes," the new teen started, his pungent breath stinging the pale boys cheeks, "I plan to pay for every. Square. Inch. I touch."

As soon as he finished panting his words out, he regripped Logan's arm and slammed him back against the wall.

"Look, I'm fine," the brunette soothed, wanting this to end fast, "I'm clocking out for tonight; find another guy."

"NO, No!" the frat boy shouted, his voice barely piercing over the blasting music and voices, "I want you."

"I'm not for sale," Logan retorted quickly, squirming again.

"But I want you," the other man growled, "I want you right now. And it doesn't look like you can reject me does it?"

His eyes traveled down to the pale boy's arms being pinned to the wall and again, the flood of fear reissued itself inside Logan.

"Please," the brunette pleaded, his tone of voice changing immediately, "let me go; I'm really not for sale. I need to leave. I beg you, please, I need to go."

"The only place you'll be going cheeky," the frat boy started, his smug grin looking devious, "is home with me. And if you keep acting up, I may not pay you either."

As soon as he heard the last words, the brunette did everything in his power to draw strength and again, started throwing himself like a brute to escape his restraints. But it failed. He did it again, using all of his force to try to weaken the other man's strength, but he just couldn't.

His next option was to try to hit him were it hurt and escape an alternate way, but as soon as he got ready to knee the intruder in the groin, he felt a leg block his own from moving.

He was truly trapped.

"You're mine cheeky," the drunken bastard stated clearly, "now give up and I swear I'll only hurt u half as bad as I planned."

"Please,"

"Save the pleading for the bedroom,"

Logan had no options any longer; he was blocked from every angle to try to escape and even his options of crying out were beyond limited. The blaring sound made that virtually impossible.

And so the hooker resorted to the last thing he could do; the last way to relieve the tension and stress he was under.

He started to cry; he started to sob and scream and resort to every primal and vulnerable thing he could do to escape it. His tears made streaks of black flood down his cheeks and his cries for help reverberated through the walls.

For just one instant he could swear that someone was going to notice and help; he was going to be able to escape and make it out after all.

Instead he felt a gruff hand cover his mouth and the frat boy smashed his unshaven face against the pale boys.

"Shut the hell up or I'll make you pay," he spat out at the hooker, never allowing him to event try to answer.

And so the pale boy decided for his own safety he was going to be forced to give up and he took the first difficult step; he took a deep breath and tried to teach himself to breathe again.

"Good cheeky," the pervert purred out, mocking the pale boy in the process, "that's it, just calm down. You'll like the gift I have to give you anyways. You're very lucky to get it."

The frat boy grinded himself against the still sobbing Logan, when they heard someone step up from behind. At first it seemed as though the drunken bastard was just going to ignore him, but after the stranger started to furiously tap his shoulder, he finally turned.

"What the hell do you wa-," he started, but never got the chance to finish; in the next instant red stained the wall and the asshole was slammed against the stone.

"IF YOU EVER TREAT HIM LIKE THAT AGAIN," Kendall screamed into the frat boys face, wiping his fist off onto the wall more from where he broke the perverts nose, "I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL DO MORE THAN BREAK YOUR FUCKING NOSE YOU DISGUSTING PIECE OF SHIT."

The other boy merely started to shrink away and began hurling insults back, but the blonde didn't care; he wasn't paying attention. His concern was with someone else.

"You're okay," the pop star whispered to the stiff stil hooker, "It's all gonna be alright."

Logan nodded his head in agreement and did his best to wipe away those stains while the blonde took his other hand and started to lead him away from the dramatic scene.

The crowd split immediately, looking at the duo with hesitant eyes while the intruder did his best to escape incriminating glares.

After getting passed the mesmerized crowd, the blonde finally threw open the guarded doors and quickly the both got into the beaten hallway and away from the 'It.'

"What …." The pop star stared, examining the brunette, "what in living fuck happened back there?"

The pale boy just shook his head, and looked away, desperately avoiding eye contact with the blonde standing next to him. He still wasn't ready for this.

"Yeah, I guess you don't know either," the blonde continued, taking the brunette's silence as just shock, "people like him disgust me."

Logan just nodded quietly, acting as if he was paying some kind of attention to the surrounding situation; he wasn't.

What he was doing instead was more essential to him; he was carefully examining each part of the hall and exit to see how to make his escape.

Sure, what the blonde did was sweet, but there was no avoiding the past; the brunette knew that much too well. And so he needed to continue his original strategy from the club and get away, yet the altercation with the frat pig had destroyed any chance of getting away unscathed.

And now here he was, with the person he feared most, trying to figure a way to yet again, simply get away. But there were a few factors to this new plan that needed to be worked out.

For starters, he needed a way to escape were Kendall couldn't follow him; another thing was that he needed to get away before the blonde would even notice. The worst thing he could think of if trying to run and the pop star catch him by the shirt jeans. And lastly, his escape needed to be quiet; him running half nude would be a statement enough, the last thing he needed was to be teary eyed and sobbing on his way.

"You know ….." the pop star continued, his monologue only popping into Logan's train of thoughts a few times, "…. Thinking about you. I miss you. So so …. It feels like an eternity sometimes. Its sorta funny but …."

So the conversation went while the pale boy finalized the plans; every so often he could pick out a word or two, maybe even a sentence fragment, but nothing more.

And he didn't want to hear anymore either; he had made a decision after that night, so many weeks ago, and that was no matter what, he was never going to have feelings for Kendall. Even if he felt them; he made the conscience point to suppress them and move on as fast as possible.

That's why he was so desperate for an escape; cause every moment he waited there with Kendall was a moment he felt a little bit of the wall he created about his feelings get withered down.

"You know, there's something I want to tell you," Kendall finally stated, feeling his resolve almost melt as the words came out, "I think that I may genuinely l-,"

He turned to face Logan when he said it; he wanted to look into those beautiful brown eyes and confess every feeling and emotion he was having.

Then he realized he was gone.

The pale teen had completely disappeared. At first, there was a delay, as if the pop star didn't have faith this was actually happening and needed some kind of reaffirming notion. And then it hit him finally and he realized, the hooker was gone.

The revelation was strange at first; more than anything it left the pop star angry. He had worked so hard to build up the strength to say those things and the brunette would have the gall to just run away as if it weren't going to happen.

It was completely and utterly frustrating; and then the next emotion set it. Betrayal started to slowly bleed into his emotional spectrum as he stared to think about the fact that Logan had literally run away from him.

He had taken off as soon as he saw an opportune moment and gotten away as fast as possible; as Kendall thought on it, he slowly realized that the brunette wasn't even paying attention at all.

The whole time the blonde was talking the other boy just nodded his head and played along, but just as easily he could have been zoned our or doing something, anything, else. The sky was the limit; it wasn't like the pop star was going to force it.

More or less, he thought it was owed to him after what he had done for the hooker; he'd saved him from a much worse fate than talking to someone he was done with.

He had physically saved him from abuse when no one else even showed interest in caring and still, he ran away. Like nothing at all.

Slowly the pain of these thoughts was going deeper and deeper, hurting Kendall with every sting of venom it would produce.

Why? Why was this boy that he cared so much about treating him like this? How could he have so many feelings for someone that refused to even try to have them back?

It was all breaking his heart, yet he refused to give up.

His heartbreak was oddly fortifying him more, making those last words so much more important than they were before.

If anything, all the blonde wanted anymore was closure. Plain and simple.

Slowly, he picked himself up off the ground from where he had slammed himself and Logan down and started to look past the walls when he noticed a familiar sight.

What did he saw dead ahead but a struggling, shirtless boy doing his best to get lost into a huge crowd, the glitter painting his body making it that much harder.

The blonde grinned before sprinting down the hall to catch up to the disoriented brunette fighting his way into madness ahead of him.

This was his chance.

**Author's Note: I know this chapter was kinda … idk not really fluff cause it wasn't light but not really to super pushy forwardy so … I guess we could use filler? I know it sorta felt like filler, but it has purpose; I've decided to slowly and steadily build up to this rather than do it too fast and I blow it. I hope you guys can respect that decision; you're approval means so much. BTW, though I never named it, the asshole frat boy was JETT STETSON. I felt it was more appropriate to not give his name so randomly. I'd just tell you here. LOL. Please read and review and all that wonderful stuff; it pushes me continually forward to keep going through it all. Luv Ya. XoXo. **


	16. Chapter 16

Logan knew it wasn't the best plan, but it was better than the alternative of staying there with the blonde; he didn't regret trying to escape his predicament. At the moment, he was regretting his escape route more than anything else because his silent exit wasn't really working.

So far he still hadn't exited at all.

At first he was convinced that he could get past the mosh-pit of people dancing and singing to the bad dub-step; boy was he wrong. Beyond wrong at this point.

He was still stuck at the very end of the hallway, trying to get between two burly drunk men who somehow knew all the words to what the hell ever Skrillex song was playing.

But by the sounds they were making, the brunette wasn't convinced what they were mimicking was human. At first he was amused by the stupidity but at this point, it was beginning to become more like pure frustration.

The bigger problem came from the teen murmurings down the hall, preaching about something that the pale boy was avoiding. What happened the moment he noticed no person sitting beside's him against the floor?

Then the notion of getting past the insolent fools in front of him became even more important; if the blonde noticed, Logan wasn't exactly sure of the reaction. He knew it wouldn't be good.

Yet again he was forced to work out a plan for this; another one that would most likely end up just as complicated and slightly less stupid. He was really counting on the slightly less stupid clause with this one; he seemed to have a masters degree in stupid plans at this point.

He got as close to the burly man as possible and immediately grabbed his ass, doing his best to grab his attention in the most sexually explicit way he could think of in three seconds.

As soon as he finished semi-violating the annoying man, he ducked behind a wall, staring in silence at the still unaware Kendall and then checked again.

The bottom grope had some-what worked; the two men were out of the way. That was a plus. They were also smashed against the bar furiously making out to the beat of the new song.

The brunette had somewhat assumed bears, but since he wasn't at a gay bar he wasn't sure. Well, he knew the answer now; he slightly chuckled to himself as he stepped forward when he heard the loud footsteps behind him.

His first thought was that for some reason, the slightly frightening men had decided to do something to him, but after a momentary epiphany, he recognized that it was the blonde walking behind him.

At first he was somewhat startled; the blonde was taking very precise and clear steps, the clomp to his show being his only give away, but that came to him as well. The blonde didn't want to scare him off.

Initially he was insulted; he felt some-what like an animal when it was put that way, yet then that animal instinct kicked in some way. Ironically, as soon as he started feeling pity for his supposed insult on his humanity, his fight-or-flight instinct kicked in.

And as soon as he saw the creeping, lanky shadow behind him, he did something rash; he dove straight into the wily crowd, getting lost between all the heated bodies.

Immediately he was skitting and dashing along the floor, making small runs for it here and there and doing his best just to get lost in the raging crowd ahead of him. He took every sharp twist and probably grinded on every person in his path to get to the very back.

Quickly the brunette glanced behind himself to see were the blonde was; he was not going to be caught. Not this time. And to his sudden relief he found that Kendall was absolutely no were in sight as he had first expected. He had completely disappeared.

To make the moment even better, Logan had reached the entrance to the club that he had been fighting to get to for so long.

He could swear that he felt his heart sigh in relief at the fact that they were actually going to make it out; he was beyond relieved about it.

Making his very last dash possible, he propelled himself out of the chaotic, dancing mess that was the current club setting.

And then silence.

He slammed himself out, past the hammering music and passed the glossy interior into the outside world again, and all went to a very strange quiet. A bizarre still that made the brunettes skin crawl.

Logan had learned to loathe silence and still like nothing else; it was purely out of habit at this point for him. The still at one time meant a moment he wasn't getting paid; a moment he was wasting and that Carlos wasn't going to get back.

The still was a silent Enemy.

So the crawl the still brought was natural.

Logan just stood there for a few minutes, taking it all in as much as he could with each piece and moment of the last few nights all putting themselves together in front of him as clearly as possible.

It seemed more like cracked glass then a pristine window into his life lately; in all honesty, he was struggling to make sense of half of it.

What he could say definitely was that some frat pig had tried to molest him in the 'It' and that Kendall had saved him. But Kendall saving him had different meanings as well. What was the blonde's intent with that?

Well honestly, that was obvious; he merely wanted the brunette's time, but then it lead to the follow up. What could Kendall possibly say to mend things?

And then Logan asked himself a question; what exactly was there for the pop star to mend?

What he had done wasn't insulting and it wasn't a crime; he had not taken advantage of him or pulled some kind of insulting stunt. His ultimate sin turned out to be care; and if that was a sin to Logan, then what in fucks-sake was good exactly?

The brunette smiled a little when that registered; good was Kendall. Care and love and comfort and everything he had dreamed of were contained within the blonde. Kendall ultimately was the good that the pale boy was shying away from.

The blonde was one of the only reasons he had left to smile anymore.

And for a split second, Logan was tempted to walk into that club and bury himself in Kendall's arms; he thought about just slamming himself down and sobbing and crying and confessing every emotion he was feeling.

The fantasy wore off soon though and he looked past it; Kendall also represented doom. He was going to represent rumors and pain and cruelty and users and so much more.

Inadvertently, the blonde was everything Logan feared while intentionally being everything the hooker could want.

The blonde represented fearful contradiction; a step into the unknown that could end fatally. Martyrs for fame weren't unheard of; the pale boy knew that he was not strong enough to make it if things went the way they did so many times for others.

Slowly, he walked forward to were the bus would be and reviewed the bus times in his head to discover when the next would come; it was only a few minutes from his best calculations. His best being his watch and memory.

In silence, he sat on the bench and recited old literature he used to read; sonnets and sayings, anything that would keep his thoughts away from his former ones. He was desperate. He was quoting poetry and lyrics in a nervous fury to try to keep himself calm.

He needed that damn bus to show up and get him some were else; some were safe.

Somewhere he could take those recurring thoughts and dwell on them in the time they deserved; were he could sort them and clean them and re-piece them together. Finally, he realized that he was no longer going to be able to avoid this or cloud it in shrouds of mystery and pain. He was going to face it head on.

But he at least needed to do this at his own pace and comfort; if anything that was his last wish on the subject.

After what felt like the longest time in his life, the bus slowly pulled up to the bench were the brunette was cooling his heels. A smile flashed across Logan's face as he handed the man his pass and then walked into the back, everyone ignoring the beautiful, glittery boy coming down the aisle.

Finally, he found a spot in the back of the bus near an older lady, hard wrinkles covering her dark skin and with a small grin. He didn't want to sit alone; conversation would keep his thoughts off the lanky teen from before.

He approached carefully and waited until the lady recognized him as a person to actually sit down; as soon as their eyes met he flashed a lopsided grin and he knew he was in. She smiled back before moving her purse and allowing Logan to rest.

The screech of the doors shutting sounded and he breathed a loud sigh of relief with dispelling the possibility of seeing Kendall again for a bit. All was safe and sound and the bus even started forward.

Then it stopped.

The brunette's eyes snapped open when he heard the beating on the glass doors and immediately he jumped up to see what was going on. He was concerned there was some kind of robbery going on or criminal act; the bus doesn't stop for shit.

Then the screech sounded of the doors and the glass slid open.

Next were the sounds of clunky footsteps marching up the coal black floor and up to the driver. Logan couldn't particularly make the person out but he thought that he might have seen a large wad of presumable cash get exchanged with the driver at the front. Concern started to set in.

Finally, the shadowy figure from the front stepped forward and revealed himself; the brunette felt his heart stop.

"I'll pay every single person to get off this bus right now," The blonde announced with a smile, holding the cash above his head, "A hundred a piece, and all you have to do is wait at the stop."

Immediately almost everyone hopped up and sped over to Kendall with the speed of lightning; each person was handed a hundred dollar bill as they stepped forward and off the bus.

All except for the woman sitting next to the brunette; as soon as the blonde had laid out his reward, Logan grabbed her hand and squeezed it in his own while exchanging glances with the woman. With a soft smile she didn't even shift with the hooker next to her; she sat perfectly still while clenching his hand.

Kendall stepped forward still, taking each step slowly while smiling before, making each and every pace count while staring at his prize. For the first time, the brunette had absolutely no escape from this. The blonde paid the bus driver to make sure the pale teen couldn't leave and the emergency exit was safely locked. No more running.

The lady looked up to the blonde and Logan realized that Kendall had finally gotten to their row; he wasn't ready to admit defeat, but he knew it had happened.

"You're that boy," the old woman said with a soft smile, "You're the one from the band that's real big. My granddaughter plays that song all the time with the counting and the American idol girl in it."

"Yup," the blonde answered, "Count on you, Jordan Sparks, Big Time Rush."

"Yeah," she answered, her smile kind and warm, "she adores you and you're partner. It's all I ever hear about; all she's talked about for a month now is your upcoming concert."

"Oh," the lanky teen said with a smile, "are you going?"

"No," she stated deadpan, "I wanted to take her to the tour when it comes to L.A. but I couldn't afford the tickets."

She looked away and batted a tear, keeping Logan's hand in her own while composing herself again.

"It's real hard raising her at my age, but you're music keeps her happy. Still, that's not the point now is it; what do you want with this boy here?"

Kendall just smiled at her and then turned to smile at Logan next to here; the brunette hugged and looked away.

"You see this boy right here," the blonde started, grinning, "I like him. A lot. And he won't give me the time of day. And so I decided this was my chance, but I sorta have to get him alone. So how much?"

"You can't just buy me off son," she responded, "he seems to be afraid of you; I'm not going to let you hurt this poor boy."

Kendall face got distorted and stung, and his eyes watered a little before finally addressing here again.

"I've already done that before," he retorted, "And as long as I live I don't plan to do it again. Nothing hurts more than the moment I hurt him."

"Look," the woman replied, her face losing all expression completely, "I don't know what's going on, but …."

"All I want is some time to talk to him and be alone with him," Kendall said, "And I'm willing to pay you if you leave this bus right now and let me do that. Will you?"

Her face became distorted while contemplating her options, and Logan knew what he had to do; he took her hands in his own and gave her a simple nod and sad smile, their eyes connecting. In that split second, they communicated more than they had the whole time.

"Fine. But You don't need you to pay me," she said, before reaching into her purse and pulling out a plastic shopping bag, "still if you want to do something for me, could you sign this; she'd die if she found I got a signed poster from you."

Kendall smiled before taking the BOP magazine and flipped to the page full of posters, finding the one with him and James, and writing his autograph with the thick sharpie the old woman had given him.

"What's her name?" he questioned, deciding to make this special.

"Courtney," the old woman said with a smile, "Courtney Magkowski."

"I think she'll like this then," the pop star said with a smile, handing the objects back to the woman, "So are you going to go?"

"Yeah, I think so," she responded, picking up her paper twin sacks of groceries and sliding past Logan in the other seat, "you take care now, you hear me. Don't let him hurt you."

They exchanged another quick smile before she finally got past him and started to walk away, but Kendall stopped her before she got too far.

"Hey Mrs. Magkowski," the lanky teen started, his smile spreading across his face, "here's two free tickets to the L.A. show next month for you and Courtney. Right in the front row. And they're VIP, so after the show, stop in the back and come visit us. I'll have a special look out for you."

He could see all emotions leave her face again before grabbing the tickets and crying, letting out sobs of 'thank you' and you're 'an angel' to the pop star before walking off the bus and leaving. She waved to Kendall one final time before disappearing completely, and leaving on the two boys in the back.

"I have no escape huh?" Logan finally spoke, his first words to Kendall in what had been weeks. His first words since that night that felt like so long ago.

"Yeah,"

"I'm guessing that I should surrender,"

"Well, I'm not going to give up if that's what you're implying."

"Okay,"

"Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay. You want to talk about this so bad, we will."

"What?"

"You and I are going over to that Coffee shop over there and deal with this because I can't take running from you anymore."

"You're serious?"

"Yup"

"I paid the bus driver so that we could stay in here and have this out."

"I'm hungry"

"You never eat with m-,"

"I want to right now, so we're going to the coffee shop right over there, understand?"

"Guess so,"

"Good."

The brunette stood up and grabbed Kendall's arm before tugging him forward, the dumbfounded look on the lanky boy's face amusing him. With the blonde's permission they stepped off the bus and made the long walk to the shop that the hooker had been talking about.

Decisively, Logan picked a spot in the very back and sat down in the shadows with Kendall before ordering a diet coke and a biscuit, even though it was so late at night.

"So," the hooker started, taking in defeat as fast as he could while building a new defense, "were do we begin?"

**Author's Note: Yup. Next chapter the fucking truth comes out. Damn I've been planning this chapter for so long it's not even cute. **

**BTW, new posting day; Im making **_**SATURDAY NIGHTS MY POSTING NIGHTS.**_

**It's a lot right now and to be able to have a weekly update, I have to reschedule. Thank you for being so understanding. So proud to finally be here. Thank you for sticking with me and getting us past 150 reviews; I'm so proud of this story. I'm proud of us in general. We've done great you guys; thank you for always being here. You all mean so much to me; thank you. So please keep doing what you do and read and review and alert and favorite and rock my world. You seem to be rather good at that. Makes me happy. Luv Ya. XoXo.**


	17. Chapter 17

Then silence; the most awkward silence of Logan's life pervaded the table while he slowly sipped at the diet coke sitting in front of him.

He had every single damn intention to have Kendall start this conversation since he was so absolutely adamant to have it and for the first time since that night, it seemed like the blonde was speechless.

Kendall tapped his fingers lightly against the table while wracking his mind for something, anything to open up with. Speaking to other people wasn't usually this damn hard. Especially for him …. a celebrity ….. with millions-upon-millions of fans to support him …. and music and fame to last decades; this should be cake.

Yet it seemed like the most difficult hurdle he'd have to overcome this night and that was after a chase through a tussled club scene and him paying his way to clear a bus. Then again, with Logan, nothing was ever _that_ easy.

And the worst part was, this was just the conversation starter; what would he do when the beautiful, headstrong boy in front of him actually started to argue? What then. And so the initiation into this mattered; if Kendall played defense the whole time, there was a possibility the brunette might actually listen.

The inner debate he was having with himself was odd; it all focused on just how this conversation _could _start. It started badly and Logan could cop out; it started slow and it would go no were. The beginning of this could be very important.

"Honey," the raspy voiced waitress interrupted with a crinkled smile, "are you gonna order something or not?"

Brought back to reality, the pop star flipped through the menu in his hands quickly and did his best to find something some-what appetizing; his trainer and stylist always told him to stick with the 'body-is-a-temple' thing when out-and-about, but that was hard when the healthiest thing on the menu was salad covered in some kind of grease.

"I think I'll just have …." Finally he decided to just say screw it and get whatever the fuck he felt like, "I'll have coffee; black with … fish sticks."

"Fish sticks?" she questioned while scrolling it down on her tiny notebooks.

"Yeah, fish sticks sound good right now," the blonde said with a smile, handing the older woman the menu again.

"That's gonna take a little bit of time," she added, still hesitant, "no one really orders the fish sticks."

"It's Friday right?"

"Yeah,"

"Then that means its Fish-stick Friday," the blonde pronounced loudly with a silly, self-satisfactory smile covering his face.

Though he didn't mean too, the brunette ended up giggling hard at the blonde's actions before burying his face in his arms to hide his grin. The waitress looked over the two boys, clearly messes for men, and finally let herself crack a smile as well.

"Alright honey, sorry for the wait."

"Take your time; we'll be here either way."

The smile still pervading her face, she slowly walked away and back into the back of the restaurant, leaving Kendall and Logan as the only people there besides one woman at the counter reading through a stack of books.

"Fish stick Friday?" Logan started finally raising out of his arm-made cradle, "are you the religious type?"

"In what sense," Kendall questioned, finding the brunette's sudden interest intriguing, "I don't exactly worship the Sea if that's what your imply-,"

"No, it's just that, you know," suddenly the brunette was stumbling on getting some word out, something was refusing to let itself loose from his vocabulary, "I knew some people, a long time ago, who were very religious and strict about this whole catholic thing and fish on Fridays was very specific. Every Friday we had fish, but I got to pick what kind and I always chose fish sticks. Fridays just kind of became Fish Stick Friday for me ….." his speech started to trail again, "it was refreshing to hear you say that."

"I'm Jewis- was Jewish," the blonde corrected, catching himself telling that old lie, "so um … yeah that has nothing to do with your catholic thing."

"Former Jew," the hooker snorted, taking a huge sip of his drink, "you're a former Jew and somehow kept that tucked away from the world? Tell me Mr. Knight, what else do I not know about you?"

The Pop star grinned while leaning back in his blue, pillow-ey chair; what Logan hadn't realized he'd done was that he had finally done what Kendall couldn't.

The ball was rolling and now, with a new confident demeanor, the blonde wasn't afraid of how this conversation would turn out anymore. Because no matter what, he was getting somewhere. And that was a hundred times better than before.

Logan couldn't explain why he did it, was doing it, allowing the blonde a peak in, an opening for what he wanted to say. Yet he was and it felt nice; it felt nice to not fear someone he had found such an odd level of comfort with. Someone that at one time meant so much.

And maybe on some bizarre level, the hooker actually did care to know more, but he couldn't say those were his main intentions. Maybe his main intention was to get this over with. Maybe it was to see the blonde smile in those glints of what was and what could be.

Whatever it was though, it was giving Logan emotions that were all too familiar and yet …. For the first time in an eternity … he was enjoying those feelings.

"Um besides the fact that I'm a former Hebrew?" the pop star said it with a tone of superiority that had become his trademark so long ago, "I went to Catholic School? I mean its fact but I don't know how much it matters."

"Damn," the hooker drew the word out, letting it swim in his mouth a bit before finishing, and "is that why you're not all into Jewish god anymore?"

"Kay for starters, they're the same deity; next, the reason I'm not Jewish anymore is my mom kind of gave up on it when I was younger; and lastly …"

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"It's something if you felt the need to almost mention it."

"It's just … look I don't want to talk about that anymore; why don't you tell me something."

"Like what?"

Kendall started to consider it for a minute, choosing to organize everything he knew about Logan quickly before deciding what blanks he wanted to fill in.

"Okay, I think I've figured it out," the pop star began, getting ready to unleash his first curiosity, "how fucked up was your family?"

Suddenly the smaller teen burst out laughing, "my family was so fucked up I got three," his laughing grew louder, "Recast. Three times. That's fucked up." At this point the hooker was laughing so hard he couldn't get up. His body was glued to the table as he thrashed at unheard comedy.

It startled the blonde at first, and at one point it started to frighten him, but then he realized something; what he thought was laughter was slowly forming into sobs. Loud sobs. Body wracking sobs tearing through Logan's core as he now sat crying on the other side of the table.

"I lost it all three separate times _*sob*_," the brunette moaned out, "and I swore I was going to do something better with my life. Not be like them_.*sniffle*_ And look at me. _*sob*_ I'm a cheap hooker. _*louder sniffling*_ Trying to keep his brother in College and failing even at that. _*more powerful sobs*_ You were the best thing to happen to me …. _*sniffles*_ …. To happen for him …. *_wipes away tears* _… and look, I've even fucked up that."

The already heavily smeared black make-up from before was now even messier, clouding every part of his cheeks and masking his eyes. His once pale cheeks were now flushed red, mixing with the muck to make him seem even more frustrated.

The tears themselves, intermingled with the mess on the already all consuming eye-liner, now fell from his eyes in the form of black raindrops, leaving light paint everywhere they land.

And it all came crashing down on Kendall; how was he being so cruel at the moment. He was watching someone he had such strong feelings for suffer in front of his eyes and wasn't even offering his coat. A shoulder to cry on. Warm arms to make the bad flee away.

Quickly, the pop star got out of his welcoming seat and entered the brunette's, removing his warm white jacket and wrapping it around Logan's shivering, half nude body.

The hooker slipped his arms in with haste while zipping it up, but found that it was still a bit too big for him.

Kendall, looking down over the brunette who was finally accepting help, decided to take initiative in the situation and wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him in by the waist to be right next to the Pop star.

Yes, he intended to talk, but how could they do that if the hooker couldn't manage to keep himself together long enough; the blonde was going to hold him together no matter what. Plus, it felt nice to have his arms around him like that.

"So, that didn't exactly go over well," the taller teen finally started, letting the light humor show heavy traces through his voice, "but we can try again later. Why don't you ask me a question now?"

"Um…." The brunette faltered, but there was a large possibility this was a sob, "you were saying something earlier."

"Uh-huh," the blonde answered, holding Logan tight in his grasp.

"What was the last thing you were going to say," the smaller boy asked cautiously, sobs still randomly wracking his body but not nearly as bad, "about losing your religion and all. I'm very curious."

"Oh that," the taller teen pursed his lips a little while deciding how to address this and make it make sense at the same time, "it's kind of difficult to explain. Are you sure you want to know?"

Logan moaned on his shoulder before burying his stained face in Kendall's pristine white, v-neck shirt, now forever staining it with large black smudges. Yet all the blonde could do was smile, and so he pulled Logan close, kissed the top of his risen hair and started.

"They say you only get true love once," Kendall let out with a breathy sigh, trying to make Logan understand the importance of his words as well as the ones to come, "and hell, I think some of us even miss out on that one time. There was a long time in my life where I was convinced I'd lost it, and the sight of him would tear me to shreds."

"So you lost your religion," the brunette started bitingly, but choked midway through and had to simply spit the words out in a slur, "causeofsomeboy?"

"No, no, that was just the introduction Logie," the pop-star chuckled out, finding the almost jealous tone to the brunette's words refreshing, "it's just that, we only get true love once in our life. Each of us. Theirs that one person out there, that one soul mate, and we spend our lives looking for them and the minute we find them we swear that you never plan to let them go. That you'll stand with them and by them no matter what happens. Yet no one ever talks about what happens when your soul mate stops existing."

"I never really thought about it like that but," Logan said in deep thought, his sobs becoming less as he started to truly consider this, "I guess you … yeah .. I guess you're right."

After spouting those words out, the brunette let out a new round of harsher sobs, to which Kendall countered by kissing his head again and lightly rocking him. He knew it was bad, but the blonde couldn't decide how he felt about this reaction, yet that didn't matter … what mattered was finishing this story.

"I didn't exactly have a dad -"

"Um, yes you did, we all have parents; its kinda genetically impossible to not have them," the smaller teen cut in, getting lost in his own thought as he so often could, "unless you go through in vitro fertilization and isolate the eggs and then-,"

"Fuck!" Kendall responded chuckling, cutting off his sentence like the one before, "you know what I meant."

"Yeah," Logan giggled in response, wiping off more of his smear and tears on Kendall's once immaculate shirt, "but I wanted to make myself laugh."

"How the hell did someone like you become a hooker?"

"I told you,"

"Not really,"

"I know what you're doing and I won't have it," the brunette finally said sternly, "you're trying to distract me and we both know I'm smarter than that. Now please Kendall, keep going with what you were telling me before. I stupidly interrupt again. I promise."

Then it dawned on the blonde; this was it. This was his last shot at making Logan love him. He couldn't screw this up now, especially after how long he'd waited and longed for and even prayed for this moment to finally come. And it couldn't be more perfect as he held the brunette close, kissing him softly, wrapping him in his own clothes and yet … he was still so scared.

This was the opportunity he was waiting for and so he made a decision; clearing his throat, he finally figured out what he was going to tell Logan. Swallowing it all down he finally let himself speak and tried to make his words stay as clear and precise as they could be, even though they had a cryptic nature to them.

"Logan," he started nervously, slightly biting his lip, "I watched my mother lose her soul-mate. I watched her lose it all. Anything that mattered … and it makes me realize something. I can never lose my soulmate. I will hold onto whoever it is for dear life. And that's why I can never lose you."

There was no response.

Only silence.

And that same feeling from months before, the night were he almost lost it all with his confession, started to fill Kendall's gut again.

He couldn't lose his Logan. Not again.

**Author's Note – I hope you can forgive me. I cant explain it. You are all my biggest inspirations and I hope you know that each one of you is special to me. I'm so sorry. Forgive me for taking so long? Leave it in a review as well as your feelings on the chapter and the story in general. Your reviews mean the world to me. Have a wonderful weekend! Luv Ya. XoXo.**


	18. Chapter 18

"Explain. Further."Logan responded through gritted teeth, his once sad tone was now quickly replaced with a harsher one, more biting and precise then the blonde had ever heard him manage before.

"Wha-Wha-What?" Kendall sputtered out, confused and frightened at the smaller boy's response, yet somehow still holding him close to his body.

The heated breath against Kendall's dirty, stained once white shirt was starting to perplex him because though clearly there was anger there, the way the brunette was clenching to the fabric of the blonde's shirt made him question the geniusness. There seemed to be as much fear of letting go as fear of staying, which delighted the blonde in a sick way.

It wasn't that he enjoyed seeing his Logie in pain, but the fact that for the first time it was very possible that the smaller boy was finally depending on him that made him happy. It made him smile on the inside slightly, yet still the brunette in his arms was angry and he needed to fix that too.

He never wanted his Logie angry.

"Elaborate," the smaller teen said through his angry walls of white, "You can't just say something like that and think you can leave it that way. Explain to me what you meant and what would make you say or think that. Do you understand?"

"Yeah I guess so …" the blonde replied crestfallen, the realization that Logan was going into this hostile meaning bad things for him.

What surprised him was the brunette's reaction; he expected the beautiful boy in his arms to get even more frustrated and upset with how he was acting, but instead the smaller boy brought Ken's face down to his level and lightly pressed their lips together.

It was a soft kiss, more filled with anguish then hunger, but it was the first kiss they'd shared, real kiss that they had ever had. Logan smiled lightly, the make-up puddles on his cheeks even more smeared to the point of fading.

"I accidently got some of my muck on you Kendall …" he started, his smile still kind and small, "… I'm sorry. I hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all beautiful," the taller boy responded, going back down for another kiss; yet when he thought he'd reached the smaller teens lips, he felt something else touch his mouth. He opened his eyes and saw one of the brunettes fingers pressed against them, and the boy looking at him yearningly.

"Look, I'm ready to listen now, okay?" he stared, easing into the taller boy's chest, "now please tell me what you meant. Explain it all to me. From the beginning."

"Okay Logie," Kendall said, a wide smile over-taking his face, rubbing the bottom of the hooker's back and bordering on his rear, "But once I tell you these things, the games that we play, they will have to end. Because my heart … it can't handle it anymore. You can't ignore what I'm going to tell you."

"I won't," the pale boy responded quickly, "now please, its necessity that I know."

"We all grow up watching those nice Disney movies yanno; the prince meets the perfect girl and after some spell or step-mother or god knows what tries to stop them, we learn that nothing can stop true love and they end up happily ever after.

It's all bullshit.

Every bit of it. Sometimes the Prince meets another Prince and the perfect girl gets left behind. Sometimes the Perfect girl is married to her perfect guy and the Prince is screwed. Sometimes the perfect girl is so emotionally scared that the idea of love makes her resent that Prince.

Either way it doesn't end well. In real life it doesn't ever end well and the moment you think it does, the moment you believe you've found you're fairy tale ending, is the moment you confess to the world that you're completely insane. It simply doesn't happen. Nothing is ever that easy in this fucked up world."

"Um Kendall," the brunette interrupted, croaking it out from the bigger teens chest, "No one on this earth understands that more than me. Cut to the chase."

"Feisty are we?" the pop star responded with a smile.

"Tired," the hooker replied, "And frustrated, and confused, and nervous, and upset. So if you please … continue."

"Well, my mom met her Prince Charming. His name was David Knight and to be quite honest, he was the most amazing man in the world. The words flawless don't even begin to describe just how incredible he was; the man wasn't even my farther and yet he was more of a dad then I could have ever dreamed of having. What they had was true love; she loved him for all his faults and he loved her for hers.

They were soulmates. They were two damaged puzzle pieces that somehow by chance found their one match. They were just … beyond perfect for each other. One was all the other would think about and vice-versa. Watching them, well, it was one of the most amazing things in the world.

He could always make me smile, or laugh, or get playful; he's the reason I love to sing today. He was the only person to support me when I was a kid; he got me lessons and bought me music and taught me what it felt like to have yourself engulfed in what you love."

"He sounds like a great guy," The brunette interjected, the smile he tried to form turning into a yawn.

"He was. But like I said before, nothing ends that easily. Fairy tales don't happen; He died. A horrible death too. Shot twice by a cop and once by a criminal. Two bullets through the stomach, one through the heart. He felt his guts be shredded and ripped apart and then his heart stopped. I can't imagine those being my last thoughts. He was the only one to die that day; it happened during an armed robbery.

It killed my mother. The news of her soulmate dying without even a final goodbye from her just tore her into pieces. She gave up on life and in turn gave up on me and my sister. It's such a helpless feeling to watch someone die on the inside. It's like watching a rose whither; it just shouldn't ever happen and yet its unstoppable.

What was left of her focused on dulling her inner pain and she did it by inserting herself into her work like it was an addiction. It was her own personal ecstacy; she lived to work. It's all she did and does care about to this day. I could give her all the money in the world, her wildest dreams, and she'd still work.

Knowing what happened to her because she lost that one person … I swore to myself I was never going to let that happen. Never go to that level of pathetic. Let no one on earth mean that much to me and the one time I did I paid for the sin severely. I pay for that indiscretion every single day of my life and you want to know why?"

"James told me on a night like this, only he wasn't holding me," Logan responded, smirking lightly when he delivered his next line, "and Carla is actually a Carlos. And Carlos is my brother."

"Oh," the blonde said, the latest tidbit of information shocking him, "Why di-,"

"We can discuss this later, for now you need to finish explain what you said prior. You were doing good Kendall, I just need you to explain the rest, okay?" the pale boy said slowly, traces of sleepiness highlighting every word he said.

"Alright," the blonde responded, again stopping on his sidetrack point to rejoin the purpose, "So I guess I don't have to explain that part, but I guess I should explain how you fit into all this."

"That would be helpful," the brunette added giggling before lightly kissing the pop star's chest; clearly he was so drunk on sleepiness that he was acting like they were a couple.

And even though the blonde liked it, it was hard to realize that it was also partly fake; if he wasn't so tired he'd never act that way in a million years. Yet Kendall craved this attention, so he ignored the obvious and reorganized his thoughts while continuing to rub the smaller boy's back.

"The first second I saw you, I knew there was something different about you," Kendall began again, kissing the top of Logan's hair lightly, "I couldn't tell if it was the way you swaggered around as if you owned the whole damn place or if it was the fact that you could make an entrance like no one I'd ever met before, but there was something about you that was simply intoxicating to me.

To be honest, the only reason I even went into that haven was because I saw you go in there and I wanted more. And when you walked out with that thick black eyeliner and those tiny shorts … it was done. You were and are the most complicatedly beautiful thing that I had ever seen and I just knew that no matter what I had to have you. You transformed from this innocently stunning teenager to this flawlessly gorgeous sex symbol; I've seen rock stars fail at that process.

Watching you, it was amazing, it was like I couldn't take my eyes off of you so when I found out your price, I knew you were bullshitting, but I was okay with it. And it wasn't about sex or getting pleasure, it was because in those moments were we were talking and getting to know each other more, I was reminded of something that I hadn't thought about in a long time.

Somehow you and I, we um … we reminded me of what my mom and David had; whether you want to admit it or not, we had, have and will continue to have chemistry that comes natural. So that night I didn't pay for your accompaniment or even your ass, I paid for your personality. I paid to get to know you better."

"But we still had sex …" Logan responded, his voice trailing off; he was so utterly confused about this and what Kendall was saying and what he was feeling and …. Even his thoughts were beginning to trail off.

"Yeah … I know. I'm sorry Logie, you're just …. You're very hard to resist. Your mystery and your wit they just … I lose myself in you and I can't help it. I need you. And I need you in more than just a sexual way and that's why … it's why I don't regret telling you what I told you that night. What I do regret is scaring you though; I guess I just didn't choose the right time. But no matter what, it was going to happen. Those feelings, they were simply too much for me to handle and it wasn't fair to me or to you to try to bottle them up anymore.

Because no matter what … no matter how many hookers, whores, or groupies I can get to keep my company, not one of them will ever mean what you mean to me. None of them will have the same purpose and none of them will be as special as you are; Not one of them can even try to achieve capturing my heart like you have Logie."

"Oh," was the only response the pale boy could manage, the rest of his attention spent on sifting the mess of thoughts and information that was assaulting his tired head.

"The point is, You're my soulmate and no matter what happens between us, we are meant to be together. You were made for me … and I was made for you. Together, we form a perfect union and no matter what nothing can stop that. Because if we're made for each other, all that bullshit I talked about before, it will never be able to stop us. Or break us. Because you're my everything now and nothing can make me happier then that. And I won't apologize for that either because I've never felt this way for someone and I've never loved someone the way I've loved you."

"Kendall, I .. I don't know what to say," the brunette muttered into his chest, "I don't know what to say or do anymore. I barely know who I am. I .. I … I'm losing … I feel like I'm losing everything. I .. I need ta-ta ..."

For what felt like the billionth time that night, Logan lost his cool and began sobbing again, his tears finally washing what was left of the muck of his face and onto Kendall's filthy, once white shirt again. His cries were ratting his whole body, sending waves through Kendall's hard core with his abs absorbing most of the shock from the boy's breakdown.

"Its gonna be okay Logie Love, it's all gonna be okay," he blonde murmured into Logan's forehead, planting light kisses on the other teens bright red skin, "want me to try to make you feel better?"

"Ya-ya-yea-*sob*," the pale boy tried to respond, but ended up breaking into harder sobs, nuzzling farther into the pop star's warm chest.

"Okay gorgeous," Kendall whispered back, kissing his head one last time, "_cause the world stops, When I put my arms around you, around you, oh, And nothing even matters, And nothing even matters._"

He meant to keep it a secret, but the blonde couldn't help it; he started singing the love of his life the song he wrote for him. And for the first time, he thought he saw a genuine smile form on Logan's lips and any regret he might have had entirely disappeared.

Nothing even mattered … as long as his Logan was by his side.

"I um … I need time Kendall," the smaller boy finally said, still clinging close to the taller boy's body, "I need to think about this. I need to figure out who I am before I give myself to you fully. I just … I need time. But my heart … it belongs to you … it just needs to figure out who it is exactly."

As soon as the blonde heard that last part, he couldn't help his beaming smile, the happiness from those words making him feel like the luckiest man in the whole wide world. That's all he wanted to hear; he'd wait a million years for just one moment with Logan and he didn't even begin to regret that. Because they were soulmates.

After a long time of cuddling in the booth the pop star finally worked up the nerve and said what he had been dying to say ... what he had need to say for months now.

"I love you Logie," the blonde whispered to him quietly, smiling at just the way the phrase felt.

And his answer were light snores; his Logie had finally fallen asleep in his arms, cuddled into his chest, his face smudged with makeup and tears, red cheeks finally returning to their normal pale tint while a light pout covered his full lips.

"I think it's time to put you to bed love," Kendall continued, the smile now permanently part of his face as he looked over the perfection he had in his arms.

Carefully he maneuvered himself and Logan out of the chairs before lifting up the smaller boy in his arms and loading him onto the bus he had somewhat rented; he had to wake the driver up when he got in, but also gave him another few hundred dollars so he thought it was a fair trade.

The taller boy had the bus driver go over to a nicer part of town before pulling into a hotel that was fit for a celebrity; the same one they used so often months before. Taking the brunette to the familiar room after checking in, he laid the gorgeous boy out across the bed and tucked him in, kissing his forehead goodnight and leaving him a letter telling him what had happened and where he was.

Then, quietly he stepped out of the room and locked the door, leaving his love in peace to have a nice night of sleep. He didn't want to intrude on the teen, not after all the intrusion he'd already done. Logan needed time and time Kendall would give him.

That's why the last line of the note held two important pieces of information;

One, Kendall's personal cell phone number.

And two, four simple words, "I love you Logie."

**Authors Note: I know this took forever but I've been super busy; luckily I'm finally on summer vacation. And I plan to have so many more regular updates … maybe even more than once a week luvs. We'll just have to see. Anywho thank you for your amazing support and thank you for accepting my stories no matter what. Please Please review and please read my new story FASCINATIONS as It should provide the dose of Kogan you might need when this story can't. So please read and reviw and continue being amazing. Luv Ya. XoXo.**


	19. Chapter 19

Logan smiled from his place in the kitchen while using the large ladle in his hands to mix the bowl filled with cupcake batter. Since this was one of his brother's first Sunday's without James, he decided to do something special for Carlos and make him his favorite treat.

Or favorite new treat rather.

It seemed as though the tanned teen had a thing for cupcakes and of course now all the Latin boy could talk about were how amazing cupcakes were.

It had been about two weeks since that night in the café when he finally allowed Kendall to explain his feelings properly.

And those two weeks since had been more hell than the ones before; he didn't realize this much confusion for one person was even possible.

He was confused before but at this point he was just lost; nothing was clear anymore and it was utterly frustrating for him as he was used to being a clear-headed rational person.

He realized that night that yes he did have feelings for Kendall.

Yes he did want Kendall to be his everything.

Yes he was Gay.

Yes that was Okay.

But he wasn't sure what to do with that situation because he also knew a set of other things; Yes, by dating Kendall He'd be losing a lot his freedoms.

Yes, by dating Kendall he would have to stop making money the way he had always done it.

Yes, by dating Kendall he would be forced to trust someone else.

Yes, by dating Kendall he would risk the Pop star's very successful future.

Yes, by dating Kendall he would put Carlos's future in danger.

And that's what he feared the most; how his decision to say yes to Kendall would affect other people … and that's what made everything worse. Fucking worse. If this decision wasn't hard enough in the first place the added confusion was making this all unbearable for him.

After day after day of pondering this, he finally gave up on figuring this out the rational way and decided to leave this up to chance; if he was meant to be with Kendall something would lead him to the Pop Star.

He knew looking for signs like that could be fishing for insanity as it didn't make the most sense out of his other choices, but it was the only way he had left to try and by damn it he was going to figure this out.

No matter what he was going to figure this out and give the blonde a definite answer so he could end his misery; now it was just figuring out if it should be yes or no.

So why was it so damn hard?

Luckily today he had a different task to keep him company; today was the day that he was finally coming out to his brother. He knew Carlos was going to accept him – Carlos had already come out years before, but also, he was just a really kind, accepting person in general – but he still kind of feared how his brother would react.

He knew it was ridiculous but … this was something he had struggled with so very long. He had just figured his sexuality fully out to be fair, but still, he was scared. His stomach was in knots for no reason but he was still nervous; this had to happen right … he hoped it happened right … he was so nervous.

He was interrupted from his thoughts when his senses were alerted to the scent of freshly made pastries filling the air and he broke his thoughts to attend to what he was baking.

Carefully pulling the tray out of the oven, he wafted the air surrounding the cupcakes lightly, some so that he could absorb the smell more, but more so that he could draw Carlos's attention.

Usually the Latin boy would be helping him in the kitchen, but he was completely enthralled in the TV show on at the moment; there was a very specific reason his Pop Star boyfriend wasn't with him tonight.

Tonight were the Grammys, and it just so happened that the band Big Time Rush were nominated for four; Best Pop Duo/Group Performance, Best Pop Vocal Album, Best Dance Recording, and Best Short Form Music Video.

Even though the show hadn't started yet, his brother was glued to the TV, watching the preshow cautiously in an attempt to see as much as his boyfriend as he could.

This was going to be a very special night for the Pop Duo, as it was their first time to perform at the Grammy's and they had the honor of actually opening the show, something saved for what was going to be the most anticipated act of the event.

Rumors were abuzz about what would happen, but only the Latin boy knew and he wouldn't even tell Logan, which irked the brunette because he did love good gossip, but he let it slide cause he didn't want to disrupt Carlos's utter bliss. And he Latin boy had given him a hint after all; apparently Big Time Rush was going to perform with another artist.

"Um, bro," Logan finally said, giving up at getting the Latin boy's attention in any other way then the direct one, "I kinda need you to do your part with these."

"What was that again?" Carlos responded, a look of genuine questioning spread out across his face.

"Oh, I don't know …" Logan started, is gaze flying off into space on purpose, "Maybe it was ICE THE FREAKING CUPCAKES!"

"Wow," the Latin teen responded, giggling, "Cut the tude, dude."

"You are not allowed to say that till you become a surfer with long sandy blonde hair, understand young man?"

"I understand Mommy Dearest,"

"Now ice those cupcakes like the top of the Chrysler building!"

"Um, I don't mean to burst your bubble Ms. Hannigan," Carlos giggled out, licking the knife with icing on it to taste the sweetness, "but that random 'Annie' reference made no sense."

"Scrubbing a floor and icing a cupcake are practically the same things," the brunette said, stepping out from behind the small counter with their sink, "just dirty water doesn't taste as good Betty Crocker."

"In what fucked-up world do you live in were anyone could equate icing delicious little pieces of heaven with cleaning."

"In the same world were ... were … just shut up and ice the cupcakes C-los."

"Yes Sir!"

"Say my name Bitch"

"Wow, kinky."

"What can I say … I'm in an odd mood right now."

"Some would say that you, Mr. Mitchell, are in an absolutely terrific mood right now," his brother responded, "and anyone that would say that is clearly high."

"Or intoxicated."

"WTF bro."

"Did you honestly just use text talk in real people conversation?"

"You're just jealous cause you suck at texting,"

"LOL, you're right," Logan deadpanned, barely able to stop himself from laughing at the ridiculousness of what he just said.

"I'm gonna hit you in the face if you distract me from seeing Ja-,"

"And next up on the Red Carpet," the interviewer said on the TV, "smash hit Boy band, Big Time Rush!"

The crowd behind Ryan Seacrest, the interviewer, erupted into thunderous screams and shouts for either boy's attention, and like any good celebrities James and Kendall both stepped away from their dates for the night to sign autographs and take quick pictures. After about ten minutes, they finally stopped so they could talk to the TV crew that had patiently waited for them.

Carlos slammed the icing down on the counter and dove out from behind it, somehow ending up in his seat mere seconds later with the only cupcake he successfully finished in hand. Logan took a minute to laugh and appreciate the spectacle of his brother before slowly walking over to the couch like a normal person and sitting down next to him.

"He looks a little to pai-,"

"I love you Logan," Carlos began, eyes glued on the screen, "but I strap that helmet on and we go to war if you say one word about my James."

The brunette giggled, but decided to stay in silence so his brother could enjoy this bizarre moment with his love.

"So, that was a lot of fans you had back there," the female interviewer started, "how do you handle all this? The noise? The Insanity? …."

"The fame?" Kendall interrupted smiling his signature smile at the woman.

"We take it one day at a time," James continued, taking over the conversation, "we love our fans and we just never want them to forget that, so we don't really mind the craziness."

"It's worth it I guess is what we're trying to say," the blonde concluded, before turning to the crowd and again flashing his smile.

"That's fantastic," Ryan added in, "truly fantastic to see young men such as yourself really appreciate the people that made you and got you here tonight."

"So onto the next topic," Giuliana, the female interviewer, continued, "tell us about your dates tonight. Kendall I know this is your long time girlfriend, but no one would have expected who you've brought tonight.

The young woman standing next to the tanned teen - streaks of neon paint across her face and down onto her simple black dress, now stained with green, yellow and blue and her hair flowing and spreading onto her shoulders, multiple feathers and long chains of beads cluttering it - laughed before snatching the microphone out of Giuliana's hands, causing James to laugh with her.

"Yeah, I couldn't really get an invite on my own," Ke$ha responded, forcing even the uncomfortable Ryan to laugh with the duo, "Like if this were a prom, He'd be my awkward cousin."

"But this is not us endorsing incest like at all," the tanned teen said, still not able to control his laughing at his plus one's behavior.

"Hey, I took my cousin to the Prom," she responded, a straight face the whole time, "and look at me I turned out normal. And me and Harold only had sex three times that night."

Even Logan couldn't contain his laughter at that point and his brother was practically rolling on the floor; he never expected anyone like Ke$ha to have a sense of humor like that. Also her grammar was completely off, but if he brought that up, Carlos might punch him in the gut; better safe than sorry.

"So Ms….." Ryan began, somewhat lost for words as he recovered from his character break.

"You can call me Ke$ha," she said, "Ms. Ke$ha Queen of The World to be exact."

"I wouldn't go that far," James cut in, grinning as she mock slapped him across the face.

"Don't worry America, we're not dating," Ke$ha continued, looking directly into the camera, "I only date real dudes."

"Good one," he retorted, glaring at her before finally giggling himself, "but really, she's just my plus one. My love couldn't really come with me tonight, but ... gah I can't help myself. C …. If you're watching, I want you to know I wish you were here with me tonight and I love you with my whole heart Baby. I'll see you at home tomorrow."

The brunette looked over at Carlos, who's face seemed to be shining with glee as he wiped a few quick tears away ; the pale by couldn't help but smile too, seeing how happy James made his brother.

"I love you with my whole heart too Jamey," the Latin boy whispered out to the TV as if James would here, "I love you so much."

Logan scooted over on the couch and wrapped his arms around his brother, embracing him tight and warm just because he couldn't take it. Seeing him so happy was infectious for the brunette and all he could do was mirror it back at him.

"Now onto you Kendall," Ryan finally continued, letting James and Ke$ha step off screen and greet the fans again, "you and Veronica have been dating for how many years now?"

And just like that all of the brunette's happiness was snatched away; he had completely forgotten about Kendall's famous girlfriend. How could he forget something so important? Why had Kendall done what he did and confessed the things he'd confessed if he was dating?

"Five long, joyous years now," the girl responded smiling, her teeth too white and her smile to perfect to be real, "We couldn't be happier."

As soon as she spoke it got worse, the confusion and anger forcing his stomach to churn; at this point he could swear he was going to vomit. He had to get out; he had to get out and away from that TV and away from the world at the moment. He felt gutted, watching the screen and seeing how the boy that had fallen in love with him was now holding this girl close, whispering into her ear, smiling at her words.

What did she have that Logan didn't? She sure as hell wasn't prettier. Was it the fact that she was famous? That she had allowed the blonde a few duets on her album? Was it that she was a woman?

And then it hit Logan, these feelings weren't from his confusion, they were from jealousy; pure, furious, boiling, scolding jealousy that threatened to consume everything in its wake.

The pale teen unclenched his arms from his brother and accidently spat out, "whore" at the TV before running off and into the bathroom, locking himself in before getting sick into the once pristine toilet.

After a solid twenty minutes of vomiting his brother finally coaxed him out of the tiny bathroom and back onto the couch, avoiding asking about what exactly had happened to upset him so. Instead he just sat him down carefully and cuddled with him, The Latin boy holding his older brother close while watching the opening act.

It turned out to be a grand performance including smashed glass, fire-lit pianos, masked figures and the boys trapped in transparent cases; the big secret was that James and Kendall would be performing with Lady Gaga. The boys were dressed in brightly colored tuxedos, shades of electric blue and neon green mixed with purples and red, while Gaga wore a black bodysuit with white leather gloves and tall platform heels, all covered in small black stones.

They ended up performing a medley of _Yo__ and I _and the boy's never before heard song, _Nothing Even Matters; _a large majority included Gaga on the Piano and the boys crooning around her, working to avoid the fire, mixing the two hit songs, but it ended with all three doing a complicated dance sequence in the middle of the stage and ending with the boys posing around the poised Mother Monster.

It was a much more daring and glamorous spectacles for the boys, but as of late they had been taking risks with their performances; at a recent concert of theirs, Kendall lit his guitar on fire before smashing it and James wore an outfit that was made of only knotted bandanas; the daring clothing choice only covered his more intimate areas.

The rest of the show seemed to lack luster after the performance and it couldn't quite hold either boy's attention; Big Time Rush ended up taking home Best Pop Duo/Group Performance and Best Short Form Music Video.

During the show the boys had their cupcakes which Logan ended up icing himself, but he didn't do his best, instead his mind in other places; he still had something else to deal with afterall. He still had to come out to Carlos.

He wrote it out a million different ways in his head, forming a new way of saying it each time but in the end he just wasn't capable of it. It all sounded too cheesy.

It wasn't until Carlos started getting ready for bed that the brunette realized he was losing his opportunity, so swallowing his pride he finally approached the bathroom and shut his eyes, deciding just so spit it out and accept any fall-out it might have.

"Carlos, I have something to tell you," the pale boy started nervously, fiddling with his hands as he started, "Carlos … I'm … CarlosImgay."

"You're gay?" his brother responded after spitting the toothpaste out.

"Yeah … I um … I like boys," Logan finally finished, looking up at his brother and giving him his crooked smile.

"Um Logan," Carlos started, washing his mouth out and spitting again, "I thought you came out to me last month. Old news buddy … always knew."

The Latin boy hugged his brother, and yet again they shared a warm moment tonight; Carlos was so happy the brunette was finally accepting himself and admitting who he was. To other people his joy might not make since, but Logan's baby brother this was amazing. This might allow the brunette to actually be happy, something he didn't think his older brother had been in a very long time.

Finally, after finishing their poorly frosted cupcakes, cleaning up the kitchen and the couch, and unfolding their bed they were going to sleep for the night. And then the Latin boy remembered.

"Hey Logan, could you do me a favor while your home tomorrow," Carlos started, walking over to their old, cheap desk which held their laptop.

"Sure buddy," the brunette said smiling while getting comfortable in his spot, "I'm not doing anything tomorrow anyways."

"Could you drop this CD off for me at Isla records for me?" the Latin boy asked, handing him the CD in the white case, "It's my new demo album … James helped me finish making it. I'm so excited. I think this might be the one."

Logan smiled at his brother and accepted the task graciously, "sure C-los; you know I'd do anything for you."

"Oh .. thank you, thank you, thank you Lolo," Carlos giddily responded while jumping onto the bed, "This means so much to me."

"It's nothing," Logan said with a smile before turning over in the opposite direction from his brother, "but for now I think we should go to sleep."

"Yeah," the Latin boy responded yawning, "I'm worn out anyways … night bro. Love you."

"I love you too."

Carlos climbed into bed and shut the lights out, falling asleep immediately after his head hit the pillow much like his brother just moments before.

Logan didn't mind doing his little brother a favor; he worked hard on that demo and it really wasn't too hard to drop off a CD at an office building, he might even have fun. But he was very wrong. This one little favor would change his life in a way he wouldn't expect, and in the most demented way possible, it gave Logan his sign. His answer for Kendall.

**Author's Note: I know this chapter was kinda slow and boring, but it was Necessary to the story; this is going to be what sets off the important chain of events that leads to Kogan. But it's complicated and this chapter really helped to clear that up. Thank you so much for your patience and your loyalty and know that I appreciate your support so much. Please review and do all those wonderful things you all do. Luv ya. XoXo**


	20. Chapter 20

Logan nervously shuffled his feet while waiting in the pristine, white waiting room of the office building; he wanted to seem cool but this was all too much.

It was two in the afternoon, this was usually his time to be either working out or cuddled up on the couch watching whatever cliché episode of Shake it Up was coming on next. This was his time with Roccy and Cece, not his time in a fancy office building holding what could be his brother's future between his thin fingers.

He giggled quietly to himself, thinking about just how ridiculous his life could be at times when he heard a chuckle come from across the room.

"I thought only girls giggled," the older male said, his thin lips forming a warm smile.

"Boys can giggle to you know," the brunette responded, his own beautiful smile filling up his full lips, "It's twenty-thirteen bud, equal rights and all."

"Is that right?" the other man responded, "I hadn't realized giggling was a right."

"It is now," Logan responded winking, making the older man laugh again before slowly walking away, leaving the brunette to his thoughts again.

Okay, so maybe this office wasn't filled with pretentious assholes waiting to tear apart everyone's dream that walked through that tall, gray door. Maybe only half the people here were pretentious assholes waiting to tear apart someone's dream. He could live with that.

His thoughts slowly started to drift to the blonde that consistently clouded his mind; in all their time together, he had never thought to ask Kendall what it was like to do this.

To get famous.

To be a singer.

To perform and to offend and to upset just with your existence.

"Fuck," he let slip out, his nervous energy building back up and thrusting his awkwardness back upon his shoulders. This was possibly going to be Carlos life soon.

But who could be offended by his C-los.

The Latin boy was handsome and talented and kind with a huge heart and an innocent soul that seemed to understand every situation with clear and concise judgment.

And yet there would be people who would still examine everything he did for flaws; there would be people who would judge him just for breathing the wrong way.

For all of Carlos amazing traits, he also had a lot of baggage that Logan was afraid would weigh him down, whether it be his horrible, complicated childhood or his oblivious nature.

The brunette had always adored this side of his baby bro but he knew that people would judge him for it; they would call him stupid or an idiot. His every little mistake would be credited to the fact that he's a 'moron.'

People might actually think his genius baby brother is a moron.

That thought alone freaked Logan out.

And then there was the matter of James.

Or Carlos sexuality in general.

Logan had never had a problem with the Latin teen being gay; even before he had realized his own sexuality, he never judged Carlos for his. It really wasn't his business who was in Carlos sex life in the first place.

But he knew that a lot of people didn't think that way; the public loves to dissect relationships and what will they think when Carlos is only seen going out with guys rather than doting on girls.

Those vultures would tear his perfect little brother apart and even though he trusted James with his brothers heart, he wouldn't be all to surprised if the tanned teen was forced to choose between his career and his boyfriend. And when that became the case, it was obvious what the choice would be.

For just a moment, Logan thought of smashing the C.D. and walking away then and there; he knew his brother had put so much effort into this and this was his dream, but he had no idea what he was getting himself into. This was his chance to protect someone he loved with his whole heart.

He had too.

He had to blast that C.D. to smithereens and ensure that no one could hurt Carlos.

And right when he was about to walk out and do it, they called.

"Carlos Garcia-Mitchell," the young girl spoke loudly so that the small waiting room could hear.

He should have; he should have acted like he had no clue who the name was and just abandon the place entirely but he couldn't force himself to do it. No matter how bad of an idea he thought this was, this was still Carlos's dream and he'd be damned if he didn't help see it through.

"Hi, I'm Logan Mitchell," the brunette said softly, "I'm here for Carlos Garcia-Mitchell. So who do I give this too?"

She looked at the C.D. and then pointed down the hallway, "very last office on the left; he's in charge of demos."

"So I can just go in the guy's office and he won't mind?" Logan questioned.

"If you plan to get that C.D. listened too then yes," she responded, her voice still coated in sugar, "he usually likes to talk to the candidate a little, get to know them, find out if it's worth his time to listen."

"I'm not the candidate though…."

"Doesn't matter," she retorted, her tone changing, "just go down there and have your meeting with him Mr. Mitchell. I'm sure he'll understand your situation, he's honestly an amazing guy."

"Okay…," he let his voice trail again, immediately suspicious of what exactly was going on here. James had recommended this label to Carlos as a good one to start with, but from what the girl's implications suggested, this wasn't a good place of any kind.

Slowly, he took careful steps before approaching the final door on the left; he took a deep breath, deciding that no matter what he was going to make sure his brother's demo went well. Then, he finally opened the door.

"I should have known," the older man sitting at the desk said with a smile, "you seemed too cute to be applying for a desk job here."

The brunette blushed, light giggles slipping from his pink lips as his fears from before all but vanished into thin air. The older man waved him over to sit in the light blue chair right in front of his desk and Logan happily obliged, sitting down swiftly to avoid awkwardly standing in the doorway any longer.

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you were hitting on me," the brunette coyly responded while searching the older man's desk for some kind of name plate, "Mr. Griffin."

'Arthur Griffin.' Logan was surprised how well the name fit the older man; the name was strong, fitting of someone who had power. The older man just seemed to fit the name given, with his white hair and his strong jaw line, allowing one to recognize that while he was older, he seemed to control his own aging.

He couldn't be over his late fifties and clearly he chose to die his dye his hair that shade of white rather than go an aging shade of salt-and-pepper gray like others his age. From the little his suit didn't hide, Logan could tell he had a somewhat muscular build, that assumption only drawing from the cut of his suit and the way he had broad shoulders with a solid body.

Even his suit oozed power; it was a sharp shade of black, well made to accentuate flattering areas and thin enough so it didn't look overly loose.

"I'm sorry Mr…?"

"Mitchell,"

"I'm sorry Mr. Mitchell, I don't mean to make you uncomfortable,"

"Oh you don't make me uncomfortable Mr. Griffin," Logan countered quickly, not wanting to make the friendly man become less amicable, "to the contrary you really flatter me. Thank you."

"Haha, you don't have to thank me," Mr. Griffin responded, "I like making people smile, and beautiful smiles like yours deserved to be shared."

Logan smiled even more brightly, forgetting that this was supposed to be a professional meeting with someone who could make or break his brother.

"You can call me Arthur, Mr. Mitchell," the older man said smiling, "I want you to feel comfortable around me."

"You're not at all what I expected Arthur," the doe-eyed teen said, his smile plastered to his face, "I thought this meeting was going to be awkward and honestly, I was scarred you would be malicious."

"And I was worried you'd be a diva, but you seem completely down to earth."

"Actually Mr. Griffin, this isn't my demo, it's my brother's, he was just really busy today with school and stuff and … haha," Logan blushed, realizing that this may not have sounded as great as it did in his head, "I told him I'd turn this in for him."

"Oh,"

The brunette started to panic, worrying that this would reflect badly on his brother; even if he was concerned, this was still Carlos dream, how could he do something so careless? He could have just faked his way through the meeting as Carlos and gone on about the meeting. He just couldn't help but lose his wits around the charming man he was with in the meeting.

After what happened the night before – finding out about Kendall and his girlfriend – he had decided to make an effort to just completely get the blonde out of his mind. He felt betrayed; he was giving up his hope in what little romance he actually believed in.

Vulnerable and emotionally raw, he knew that if anyone who was even slightly kind to him would have him swept off his feet. And then came this older prince charming and he had lost his cool so much easier then he usually ever did.

He never lost his cool the way he did with Mr. Griffin; even with Kendall, he was able to keep his calm poker face and wit while never allowing him to catch him in such an emotional place. It took the blonde pop star months of effort to get what this older man had from the pale boy.

For some reason, the more he dwelt on the situation, the more he slowly freaked himself out more and more. He'd felt so comfortable with Arthur before, but now he was starting to grow more distant and cold, his comfort level evaporating as fast as his senses had.

"Mr. Mitchell," Mr. Griffin finally cut in, interrupting his furious thoughts, "is everything alright? Is this about your brother situation? Nothing is gonna happen to his demo just because he isn't the one who brought it. It will be fine, I promise. I hate to see someone as beautiful as you look like he's in so much turmoil."

The older men leaned forward, brushing his cold hand against the younger boy's cheek, sending chills down Logan's spine. The worst part was, this feeling wasn't entirely negative for him either.

He liked the thrill of it in a bizarre way.

It had been a while since he'd received attention like this and for the first time, he felt a craving for it. While he didn't expect his secret desires to manifest here, he wasn't planning to stop it either.

"I'm … I'm alright Mr. Griffin, it's just some stuff going on with me right now," he responded honestly, having trouble controlling his now candid mindset, "I'm sorry, this is so unprofessional, I shouldn't be telling you these things."

"No, no," the older man said, trying to reassure the brunette, "I like this; it's nice. It's so different from the usual bullshit that comes in and out of those goddamn doors."

"And this won't affect my brother's demo at all?"

"Of course not, I genuinely really enjoy talking to you Mr. Mitchell."

"Oh," the pale teen giggled again, realizing that he still hadn't shared his name with the man, "My name is Logan. Logan Mitchell."

"Look Logan, why don't you come by my house tonight and we can talk about all this more."

"Mr. Griffin is this a date?"

"Should I give you my cell number?"

The brunette smiled brightly for what felt like the hundredth time that day and decided that this discomfort wasn't so bad. Maybe it wasn't discomfort as much as it was anxiety; it had been a while since he'd ever had a guy hit on him like this.

The last person was Ken-

He didn't want to think about that last person. He'd spent way too much time thinking about and day dreaming about and yearning for the Pop Star. The Pop star that was currently breaking his heart.

"Okay Arthur, I'll be there," Logan furiously scribbled his cell number down onto a sticky note on the man's desk, "Here's my number."

He slipped Arthur the note across his desk, deciding it was finally time to take the initiative he needed too to make a move.

"Be there at eight."

"I will, _Mr. Griffin_," the brunette purred, before chuckling while he walked away from the man's office.

Maybe this would help him forget this confusion.

Maybe he was better off.

If only he had realized he wasn't.

**Author's Note: The irony of the last authors's note on chapter nineteen will never ever be lost to me. keke. I've decided I need to finish this story. I'm hoping to make more frequent updates but seriously no promises cause that didn't work in the past. Next chapter, big things come. Finally. I've promised it like three chapters now, but this set up was absolutely necessary. I want things to be tense. Thank you for being dedicated, amazing, sticking with me, and putting up with my insanity. XoXo**


	21. Chapter 21

Logan maneuvered his leg under himself so he could sit on it, trying his best to not get too comfortable in the older man's beautiful home. He figured if he sat awkwardly, maybe some of the intimacy of the meeting would be easy to ignore.

His plan failed miserably.

"I didn't expect you to come so dressed up Logan," Mr. Griffin said, entering the room with two wine glasses in his hands, "I would have tried to look better myself."

The brunette had the sneaking suspicion that that wasn't a genuine sentiment; Arthur looked absolutely amazing. Everything about him was just right.

The way his pants fit slim against his legs without hugging it too tightly or the way the blue and gray sweater complimented the black shirt underneath it. His hair was placed perfectly and his shows screamed wealth, their expensive Italian origins being painfully obvious to the doe-eyed boy.

Something about Mr. Griffin oozed classiness, whether it was intentional or not and it was oddly attractive to Logan. After years of sleeping with sleazy young guys with low riding pants or wild, unkempt hair, it was nice for him to feel the affection of someone the complete opposite.

But there was still something about the older man which made the brunette so uneasy around him. He couldn't tell if it was the way the man stared at him or his touchy nature, but there was something that made him cautious.

"You look great Mr. Griffin-,"

"Arthur,"

"Arthur," the brunette continued what he had meant to say after the interruption, "I'm the one who's dressed down."

It was true, Logan was extremely undressed for their date if you could call it that; clad in skin tight black jeans and an old pink long sleeve shirt that went far past his hands, he was an odd sight. He didn't realize how formal Arthur would be or how nice his house would look.

He expected a messy condo with huge windows overlooking the dazzling city. A place where lavish parties would parade through its halls with easy. He imagined pristine tile floors and obnoxious white lights that erased everyone's imperfections because of its overwhelming display of brightness.

A young guy in a long sleeved pink shirt and skinny jeans would fit into such a modern home like that with ease; hell it would be believable to even say he lived there.

And yet here the doe-eyed teen was, sitting on a plush couch in the man's beautiful vintage home with large wooden walls and a high staircase which revealed its semi-hidden second floor. It looked like something out of another era entirely which made it all the grander to Logan.

It fit the older man who inhabited it in every way with its classy interior and its older aura, and like the older man, it's very mysterious nature. It resembled its owner, there was something about the house that was off as if, if someone were to travel in further they would find things they didn't want in the first place.

Or maybe Logan was just reading into things too much.

That was always a possibility.

"Impressed by the house?" the older man cut in, taking a seat next to Logan after standing for so long.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the brunette responded, rather embarrassed that he'd been caught examining the place, "It's just, it's very different from what I expected."

"Honestly it's different from how I'd like it to be," Arthur began, his smile appearing and calming Logan immensely, "or probably need it to be, but there are too many memories here for me just to leave and get rid of it."

The pale boy took a drink from the glass, finding the sprite he'd asked for that was now residing in the wine glass to have a bizarre flavor but he wrote it off because he hadn't had real sprite in years. Usually he bought off-brand sprite for himself because it was cheaper, so he reasoned that maybe that's why it seemed different.

That had to be the reason, simple as that.

Logan looked up and returned the man's smile, deciding that there was no reason to not trust the older man. Honestly, he was starting to get frustrated with his own feelings about him; it was rather ungrateful of the brunette to suspect something so bad of the man just because he was a bit more intrusive then he was used to. Mr. Griffin was from a different generation, he probably didn't realize that the things he was doing would be considered too much in the first place.

Arthur had been nothing but kind to Logan and this was how he was repaying the man's generosity; how rude.

"If you don't mind," Logan said, his smile still highlighting his lithe lips, "could you tell me what you mean? I'm sorry, I'm just really curious."

"It's a long story; I don't think you'd care to listen,"

"But I would," the brunette decided to try to make the older man feel more comfortable in his presence, the same way Arthur had been doing for him, and so he took his hand and caressed Mr. Griffin's palm softly, "unless it would be too much of a bother; I understand if you don't feel comfortable telling me."

"Of course not Logan," the older man's smile returned even bigger, clearly he enjoyed Logan's new found efforts, "well I guess I should start from the beginning then shouldn't I."

Logan giggled in response, his flirty nature taking over his usually neutral demeanor; at any other time, he would never tolerate such vapid behavior, but again the older man had disarmed him and this persona was taking over his actions.

There was really no rational reason for it, but something in the air – or so he had assumed – had driven him to react to Arthur's advances much more openly.

"I usually don't like when people are so giggly, but it fits you," Griffin continued even though he was breaking the story he was supposed to be explaining, "you're really pretty when you giggle."

This simply made the doe-eyed teen giggle more, his thoughts getting slightly more blurred as time continued passing.

This was clearly a sign that he hadn't been sleeping enough lately, which honestly he hadn't. He couldn't deny the truth. Damn himself for avoiding something he'd need so much in this moment.

This is all that was.

"You flatter me too much Arthur," his smile continued to occupy his lips, "anyways though, you still haven't explained what you meant about the house."

"Well, if I was going to start anywhere, I guess the place would be about thirty years ago when I was twenty-two," Mr. Griffin looked up and took in the brunette's amused smirk, "and no laughing at my age; fifty is the new twenty-five."

"But you're fifty-two,"

"Minute details,"

They shared more laughter before the older man rapped his arm around Logan's shoulder; surprising, even to the brunette, was that Logan's immediate reaction was not to fight back against the gesture. Traditionally this kind of thing would make him extremely uncomfortable, but right now all it was doing was making him feel even more welcome.

"Continue good sir," Logan mused, taking in Arthur's musky scent as he moved closer.

"Well I met her for the first time when I was twenty-two at a staff meeting and I was completely stunned when I first laid eyes on her. Usually, I'd never be attracted to someone like her, but the minute I saw Anne dominate the room the way she did, I couldn't take my eyes off of her."

"What did _anne_ look like?" the brunette questioned, doing his best to form a mental picture of this woman that the story seemed to focus on.

"Short brown hair, big brown eyes, full pouty lips; she was much shorter than myself, which usually wasn't something I was drawn too, but what made me like her more was her personality."

"That's such a cliché," Logan inserted; normally he'd never be so forward but with this new persona came his slow loss of his brain-to-mouth filter it seemed.

"I know, I know," the older man chuckled, delighting the doe-eyed teen that he hadn't insulted the man after his statement, "but it's true with her; I was so used to such submissive people and then out of nowere, I meet the new consultant for the image department and I couldn't help but being drawn to her. In everything she did, she seemed to have a crystal clear vision of what she intended and it transitioned to her job perfectly.

"I guess in a lot of ways I thought she was perfect. And if you had asked me I would have also said our relationship together was perfect. We were both powerful, strong willed people, but together we made exceptions; together we were different and it was so wonderful to finally have someone to challenge me in such a way.

"But things were different for her I guess; it wasn't till later did I realize just how much she'd hate compromising like that. How much she hated giving up just because we were married."

"You were married?" yet again the brunette cut in, and yet again he didn't mean to.

"Hell, I left that detail out didn't I," Mr. Griffin chuckled, taking a glance over the teen next to him, "Two years after we met, we got married; it was a huge ceremony like she wanted. I would have given her anything she wanted and we definitely had the money for it. Nothing could stop us, honestly, or it felt like.

"Over the next decade or so the romance kind of fizzled out, for her more than me really but I couldn't deny that things had changed. I felt more comfortable to be flirty with other people as the years went on, and whenever she'd get angry about it I'd remind her that it was just my personality. I'd always make sure she knew I would never act on it.

"I loved her too much to act on it. Then about ten or so years ago, I found out the feeling wasn't mutual. She'd had an affair with a younger man and even though it hurt immensely, I wasn't ready to let Anne go. And so I asked her to choose, and in the end she chose neither of us. She left the state. I got the divorce papers a few months later. Apparently she had transferred to the New York branch of the label.

"I considered leaving this house because it reminds me too much of her, but when I tried, it hurt too much to acknowledge letting her go like that. We built it together and it had taken a personality of its own really; she had such a distinct taste for everything to be so antique and dignified, I had grown utterly used to it. I couldn't imagine rebuilding somewhere else. So instead I stayed.

And that's the story of why this house is the way it is."

"Wow that's …" Logan let the word's swim around in the air, trying to find an appropriate reaction to the deep and dark tale which Arthur wove.

"You don't have to say anything," he said, the bright shine of his smile from earlier being replaced by an empty look on his face, "I mean what would you say if you could."

Still, he searched his fuzzy head for a response, but nothing drew to mind so he tried comforting in an alternative way; Logan leaned upwards, extending himself till he was at the older man's cheek so he planted a soft kiss on his warm face.

"I'm sorry Mr. Griffin," he finally whispered, before getting closer, "it sounds like she doesn't deserve someone as good as you."

"As good as me?" He said dryly, "she deserved better. I wasn't good enough for her. She deserved someone so much better than me; I had put her through hell for so long. I was so indecisive and even though I wanted her, I had so much trouble showing her. I couldn't blame her for finally giving up and starting up with someone else and I definitely can't blame her for leaving.

"I loved her so much, but I knew that the way I would flirt or stay out late at night would drive her insane; I never once acted on my desires in those situations, but the fact that those desires existed was what crushed her so much. What forced her to resent me, and our relationship, and in the end our time together as a whole.

"I always felt like I was doing my best, I was forcing myself out of my comfort zone and yet it was never enough for her. I took for granted how she felt because I was so aware that my feelings were intense and I just assumed that she would get it.

Don't be like me Logan; don't take for granted the care people show for you because at one point, that care stops. It only takes a little pressure to destroy something like that. Don't make my mistakes."

Logan could only manage an "Oh," because finally, someone told him what he had longed to hear for so long. Mr. Griffin hadn't meant to, but he had made the brunette realize what he felt for Kendall.

His emotions for the blonde had always been so intense and confusing and while he didn't want to be possessed by the pop star, clearly he had felt Kendall was his in the first place.

It was just starting to dawn on him that maybe the blonde hadn't realized just how strong his emotions were; Logan was much better at hiding things then he meant to be at times, he had heard that critique from Carlos constantly.

Fuck his reservations.

Fuck his fears.

Fuck everything stand in his way.

Because finally, Logan had realized that Kendall was his. He was Kendall's. And even sitting on that couch in the moment was starting to feel wrong.

"You look a lot like her," Arthur disturbed his excited thoughts, reminding the brunette that he was still there, "I think it's why I feel drawn to you Logan. Maybe her personality was stronger, but she was caring like you are too."

"Thank you Arthur," he chimed, still not fully paying attention to the man while he continued building himself up on his feelings for the blonde.

"She was beautiful too. So are you. You're so, so beautiful Logan," he continued, pulling Logan closer, his hot breath now invading the brunette's cheek, "everything about you is just … perfection. I must admit, I'm rather engulfed in just taking in your ravishing features. You're so unique."

He felt the man tighten his grip around Logan.

"I love uniqueness," finally the older male revealed his full intentions, the lustful look in his features erasing his two previous expressions of either happiness or emptiness.

This was something new.

And if Logan weren't still feeling so off kilter, he might actually be frightened.

But instead he stayed aloof, his thoughts playing our every gorgeous moment he'd shared with Kendall; he had made the decision that he didn't care if Veronica was there. Because … and he knew it was wrong to think this way but fuck what was wrong too … she would never share with the blonde what he had.

She'd most likely never feel the same emotions so vividly and no matter what she claimed, he knew he meant more. If he was just the pop star's quick trick, then why was Kendall chasing him so vehemently?

The threat he felt while thinking of Veronica all but vanished.

Fuck Veronica.

Because Kendall was his. Plain and simple.

In all his thought, he didn't realize just how close the older man had gotten to him nor did he realize the man's wandering hands. And he definitely didn't realize the hot breath that was now moisturizing his soft neck.

"Stay the night Logan," Mr. Griffin moaned, putting pressure on the brunette's body to lay down; without a fight, the brunette easily complied.

"I don't think I should Arthur," the doe-eyed teen mumbled, but he couldn't keep himself from giggling when he felt the older man push onto him and begin kissing his neck.

"See beautiful," the older man cooed, petting Logan's cheek softly, "you like when I kiss you; stay. Just for tonight. Take my mind off of things and let me just focus on you."

His invasive hand traveled from the cheek on his face down to the cheek of Logan's bum, roughly kneading the ample area with lustful hunger.

"Mr. Griffin, I really shouldn't," the brunette responded, still not yet fighting the man's actions, "I need to go see someone."

"You can see someone in the morning," he retorted, his teething on the brunette's neck creating a bright new hickey, "but tonight be mine."

"Please Mister," Logan moaned, trying not to enjoy the sensation, "Please, I really need to see someone."

"No," he said firmly, starting to tug on his own clothing, "you're staying the night. It's final gorgeous."

"Arthur," he squeaked, "Stop."

Finally, Logan started struggling, attempting to push the older man off even though his strength felt almost entirely depleted.

"I can't," he whispered back into Logan's ear, forcing his own body onto the brunette's more.

"Goddamnit," he seethed, "I said let me go Arthur. I don't want this; I said stop."

With every last bit of strength he had, he shoved the older man, forcing him off while he struggled to wriggle out from under him.

Mr. Griffin came back with a vengence, his open hand making contact with Logan's cheek only moments later, slapping the teen back down so that he would land with his back to the couch again.

"But you do want this," he growled, keeping the younger down, "You don't want to be let go; you want to be right here and you want to let Arthur make you his. If only for tonight."

He smashed his thin lips into Logan's and demanded entry into his mouth, and with tears starting to swim into his eyes, Logan allowed.

He knew what this meant.

He knew exactly what was happening.

In years of being a hooker, he'd done so many morally questionable things and had even more done to him.

But every single one had had his consent.

This was different though.

Arthur had no consent.

Logan had demanded the older man to stop and he returned the request with abuse.

This was the first time this kind of thing had ever happened.

This was the first time Logan had ever been raped.


	22. Chapter 22

It was over.

Hours and hours later, at four in the morning, it was finally all over.

Logan lay on the couch, limp, his cold naked body shivering against the cold air of the room as the events of the prior night filled his head over and over.

Things weren't supposed to happen like this.

Mr. Griffin had finally enlightened the brunette and for the first time, he was ready to accept the way he felt for Kendall with no regrets.

This was supposed to be the most amazing night of his life.

It was all supposed to feel like walking in a dream.

Instead he had lived through the worst of nightmares.

He began searching for something, something to calm his violent shivering but he found nothing but the clothes the older man had shed. Immediately things became too real again and he threw them on the floor, accepting his own physical ailment to avoid more emotional torment.

Then he heard the steps on the tile and realized that Arthur was approaching again.

Gritting his teeth, he allowed the tears to continue to stain his cheeks as he knew that the man was back to induce more rounds of torture.

Instead he heard the man stop right near the couch and the faint tapping of what he made out to be ice in a small glass.

He chanced a glance up, deciding to look at his attacker to try to guess what to expect from the man.

What he found were empty eyes again as the older man nursed the drink and stared forward.

"I think you should leave," he began coldly, still not looking at Logan, "I think we should forget any of this happened. Forget about tonight Logan. And I'll forget about the C.D. And let's forget we ever crossed paths."

"What" was all Logan could manage confused and upset mixing themselves into his already fearful set of feelings.

"Leave," was all the man responded, "leave or I will force you to leave."

And oddly, Logan felt as if he were the attacker. As if he weren't the victim and as if he wasn't the one just brutally raped multiple times. How dare this man.

How fucking dare him.

What did he think had happened, what delusion about the horrendous events of the night had taken over his thoughts.

"You heard me," he stated, putting his drink down and walking towards the brunette, "Leave. Get out of here you little slut."

"You…" the words wouldn't come as more tears prepared themselves.

"She would have fought back," was all Arthur could reply, disgust lacing his tone, "She was strong. She would have never let me hurt her like that. You're not anne."

"I'm a boy," he retorted, the bite in his tone not seeming even a bit strong.

Mr. Griffin looked at him with distain, "I shouldn't have tried to replace her with you. She would have never been so pathetic."

Logan felt sick as the man victimized himself, as his attacker reasoned out why Logan was wrong for his actions.

"Leave," he yelled this time, getting into Logan's face, "Leave and forget about all of this."

He grabbed Logan's arm and forced him upwards, grabbing the brunette's briefs from before and his own shirt. Forcing the clothing into the doe-eyed teen's arms, he opened the door and threw Logan out onto the concrete before swiftly shutting it and locking it into place.

The shock was still causing Logan to stay unsure of what was happening, but as soon as reality crashed in, all he could do was burst into tears.

He needed to get away and to someone … anyone … that could help.

He tugged his own undergarments on before putting the older man's large black shirt on, pulling it down so that it would reach to his mid-thigh.

The man had provided him with no pants.

The monster residing in that house had deprived him of all of his dignity and now he had the gall to not even offer the brunette pants.

But he couldn't go back.

What if he had gone back, angrily demanding something, anything to cover his bare legs and the man opened the door and shot him.

Or worse, opened the door, dragged Logan back in and forced him into another round of the forced intimacy.

If you could even call it intimacy.

The point was … there was no going back. He simply trudged forward, his body forcing him out of the drive way and into the busy scene of the nightlife in the streets ahead.

His heavy tears continued spilling down his eyes as he continued walking aimlessly in an attempt to put as much distance between himself and the house as possible. He didn't want to be in the man's grasp again and if it meant getting lost, then he would.

If he couldn't find his way, then Mr. Griffin wouldn't find him.

Now that he was away, he had a moment to really reflect on what had happened leading up to his –

He had time to reflect.

There was no need to even address what exactly had happened.

Arthur had been so kind and warm before, inviting him to his house, promising to accept his brother's demo, complimenting the brunette, bringing him a drink.

Fuck.

It was the drink.

Logan had gone to so many clubs, he knew all the tricks, he knew that you never accept a drink that you haven't gotten yourself.

Allowing someone else to handle your drink was an invitation for someone to mess with you and so, so often someone would. Whether it be for their own amusement or for much more sinister reasons, Logan knew things like that happened.

Now the whole night was starting to make sense.

Why he'd felt so out of character, why he'd been so flirty, why he'd let Mr. Griffin manhandle him so much during the story.

The haze in his thoughts, his own slurred speech, his slowness to react.

Arthur had slipped something in his drink.

The realization that the man had been planning his attack from the start of the night made Logan sick to his stomach and made him want to throw up, but he couldn't risk it at the moment.

He couldn't risk stopping to get sick while he was still escaping.

He began contemplating if the story of itself was even real or if it had all been a way for Griffin to buy time and allow the drug to dull Logan out till he was forced into submission.

No, it was real.

His sentiment in his words was too real to be faked and his sick disappointment after the ordeal ended helped the brunette to conclude that that part was real.

It didn't make it okay though. Nothing ever would.

Finally, after an eternity walking, he got to the rowdier part of the area and he began to feel some safety as more and more people began surrounding him.

The issue was, more and more people were surrounding him late at night into the early dawn hours, and he was starting to realize that this didn't look like the kindest crowd. He was surrounding himself with people, yes, but did they look very sympathetic of his current circumstances, no.

They'd see a pretty, young, lost teen boy with tears in his eyes, a pout on his trembling lips, and nothing but a large black shirt protecting his body from the cold.

Surrounding himself was feeling less like protection and more like invitation and fear started to fill his veins again.

Did he leave the atrocities of Arthur before just to face the atrocities of a different man now?

He heard someone whistle from behind him and he screeched, ducking down from fear that he was going to receive a blow from the stranger.

Instead he felt someone tap his shoulder gently.

"Hey, hey," the man said with a soft tone, "I'm not going to hurt you. I was just whistling to get your attention, okay?"

Logan looked up and saw the concerned look in the man's eyes; he knew it was a risk, but he decided to trust him.

"Tha-thank you," he released, forcing his speech to return as best it could, "thank you sa-*sob*-so much."

He didn't mean to, but he couldn't help but rap his arms around the man, hugging him for showing him some sort of kindness. Here was this man who knew nothing, but decided to show a random stranger kindness and this made Logan so unbelievably happy at the moment.

"Shh," he said, "calm down okay. Now … um … let's start from the beginning, why don't you have pants."

"Please," the brunette whimpered, still clinging onto the kind man's chest, "please don't ask me that."

He peaked upwards, hoping the man wouldn't question him about that further and after seeing the dawn of realization sweep over the man, he knew that nothing more would be said.

"O-okay," the man stuttered, lightly pushing the brunette off, "why don't we call the police?"

"No," he muttered, fear sweeping his features, "please, pl-pl-please don't sir."

His tears started to surface again, knowing that if the police came he'd be forced to give a statement and relive the horrifying events again. Possibly over and over.

The mere thought of having some critical man question him about the situation drove him over the edge and his crying returned, this time almost stronger than before.

He doubled over in pain, his sobbing wracking his body into convulsions and the man barely caught him as he began to tip forward.

"I don't know what to do," the stranger began, his face coated in nervousness, "should I go? I -,"

"No," the brunette moaned, "please don't leave me alone."

His speaking had been reduced to the point that he was scarred to speak more than the same phrases he'd already said of fear that any deviation in speech would trigger another violet emotional reaction.

"Alright, so you don't want to talk about it and you don't want to be alone," he seemed to be collecting his thoughts, "look, I need to get work but I can't just leave you here … so … why don't you come with me. You can just sit in the back till you're ready to leave or do whatever you need, no one will bother you for a while cause I manage the cashier by myself. Is that okay?"

"Tha-that's fine," he said, a feeble smile trying to grace his lips, "than-thank you so mu-*sob*-much sir."

"You don't have to call me sir," the man began to walk, beckoning Logan to follow behind, "my name's Mark."

"Hi Mark," the doe-eyed teen said as he walked slowly behind, his sore body not allowing him to speed up and get to the man's pace, "I'm La-Logan."

Mark noticed the younger man lagging behind and slowed down to catch up with his speed and the pale boy tried to make a smile to show his appreciation. He didn't mean to seem like it meant less than it did to him, but trying to display anything but intense pain and fear right now was proving much more difficult then he thought.

"Hey Logan," Mark said off-handedly, surprising the brunette, "I'm sorry."

And with that, they commenced the silence that would continue between them for some time … and yet, this silence was not an awkward one. It was comfortable. He needed this after all that had happened that day, and this kind man was allowing him this tiny little pleasure that gave him a respite from the waves of disgust that were sweeping his entire body.

The pale boy took a minute to really examine his current savior who was so nonchalantly walking along, not questioning the state Logan was in out of respect. He was Asian, with long, onyx bangs that fit against dark eyes; he was tall and was dressed in a pair of loose fitting jeans and a leather jacket on top of a pale green t-shirt.

It must have been an odd sight for an outsider, this tall man in a leather coat leading the smaller man in nothing but a big black shirt walking along in perfect silence, one trudging and the other strolling, while the smaller one cried. For just a moment, the brunette allowed himself to be amused by these thoughts and to ignore the events of before; Mark looked back and caught it just in time, seeing the dazzling smile return to Logan's face for just a moment before melting away back to his expression of anxiety from before.

"Hey," the kind man said, smiling in response to try to see Logan somewhat happy again, "what were you laughing at?"

"Noth-Nothing," the doe-eyed teen said, giving a small grin, "It's just … we must look really weird."

"It's five in the morning," Mark responded, still working to get him to smile again, "if anything, we probably look normal."

They both examined their surroundings, a mix of hookers, perverts, and criminals, and here they both were, just trying to get passed the environment.

Logan couldn't help but giggle a little, taking in what Mark had meant; what made it even funnier though, and something Mark definitely didn't know, was that this was Logan's normal crowd.

Logan was a hooker, who more often than not slept with either criminals or perverts who needed a quick fix to their immediate desires.

"See," Mark continued, his smile brightening up the pale boy's mood more, "It's better to smile, at least while you're waiting."

"Waiting…?"

"I'm imagining – and correct me if I'm mistaken – but I'm sure there is someone out there worried about you," the tall man said, his bright smile from before simmering into something gentler, " someone out there waiting for you to come home."

Immediately reminded Logan of someone in particular.

"Someone probably thinking of you right now."

The duo stopped in front of small convenience store and Mark started to unlock the door, ushering Logan in and then entering after him.

"Hey Mark" Logan said while he waited for the man to enter, "ca-can I borrow your phone?"

He fished it out of his pocket and handed it to the doe-eyed boy; they both went separate directions, Logan heading to a corner in the far left while Mark went over to the cash register to unlock it and start the early morning's work.

His anxious fingers punching into the tiny keyboard at a ferocious speed, he inserted the number he had memorized into the black cell phone.

"Ka-Kendall," he began after he heard the other person pick-up, "I … I need you to pi-pick me up."

The response he heard was simple and it sent a wave of clarity through his person that he had desperately needed.

"Logan … where are you?"

A/N: Mixed reactions on the last chapter but most people saw it coming. Also i saw some very interesting suggestions. Thank you so much for all your comments. Please keep continue blessing me with your words of encouragement as well as your observations. They help me immensely in the writing process luvs! Xoxo


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